#been sitting in this coffee shop forever with Nothing done. killing killing killing
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wuuuuhggg I think I have to redraw the lovers card even tho wei wuxian looks so good... I've erased lan wangji too many times and he Still looks weird killing myself
#drawing multiple people next to each other is hard too because making them the same size as each other is so evil 😭#if I thought I chose a hard pose for wwx lwj is even worse....#and with this I can't just be like FINE he'll look weird because I want to be genuinely proud of all the cards#been sitting in this coffee shop forever with Nothing done. killing killing killing#I'll try one more time and then I'm scrapping it 😔#ghost posts#text#lwj#wwx#wangxian#cql tarot
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September Sky Chapter Seven, Part 1
"It is too. Hear me out," I said, almost spilling the cup of coffee sitting on the metal table in front of me. I was animated.
"Fine, I'll hear this crazy theory," Chad cut his laughter. We were meeting with Alana in a few hours. Chad had come early intentionally so we could hang out for a bit, just the two of us. Catch up. And we had done that, and now things were back to as if there never was any distance in this friendship.
"How can I help it if I think you're funny when you're mad? Trying hard not to smile, though I feel bad. I'm the kind of guy who laughs at a funeral. Can't understand what I mean? Well, you soon will. That's all I should have to say. He's basically saying he's going to laugh at her funeral. The narrator of the song killed her. In each chorus he's telling you what stage he's at." We were sitting outside a local cafe called Fuel. It was a coffee shop on steroids, and their coffee was a hundred times better than the chain store Collectivo Coffee. It wasn't even a contest.
"You need to go outside more," Chad said deadpan. Chad was a bigger guy, but then again everyone seemed bigger than me. His shoulder length hair was held back in a high ponytail. A thick yet trimmed and taken care of beard covered the bottom half of his face. Without it, his face matched that of a five year old's. He was dressed in all black. The uniform of the alternative children.
"That's your reply? Come on. That song is about a domestic murder. Otherwise that line is pointless."
"Have you listened to the lyrics? I think it's supposed to be pointless."
"That's what I always thought too, but then I really listened to it. It's about murder, dude." I will die on this hill. That song is 100% about a domestic murder. Do not try me, I will argue this forever.
"You're really stretching. The verses aren't about murder. They don't even make sense." Chad said, taking a drink of his coffee. It didn't matter that it was close to 80 degrees out, we were still drinking hot coffee. Outside and in the sun, even. Fuel always put up some metal tables and some very uncomfortable metal chairs.
"Exactly. They're to throw you off the actual words. The verses weren't ever supposed to make sense. It's just adrenaline rushed nonsense. Just a distraction to the chorus and bridges." Every table outside was full. But it was also a nice day out. People walked up and down the sidewalks. Somewhere near, music was pumped into the air.
"You really need to get outside. Leave the house sometimes." Chad said.
"I do."
"I mean, more than just Addison's place and work."
"I'm at Fuel right now."
"Would you be here if I wasn't here?"
"It's possible. Hey, I have three places I could be in. There's nothing wrong with that." I said defiantly.
"You think of some weird shit." Chad laughed.
"So I've been told."
A couple walking hand and hand passed by our table. They were talking with exaggerated movements. For once I smiled at seeing it. It may not have been all that much of a change, but even a subtle change towards being healthier was a plus. The fact that I could see a couple and not feel the deep dark well open up in my stomach was a huge fact to me.
"How's things been with Addison anyway?" Chad asked
"Really good. I invited her to tag alone if she wanted, but she's on-call so she really can't."
"On call?"
#Fiction tags#fiction#artists on tumblr#writing#my writing#spilled words#writers on tumblr#poets and writers#writeblr#creative writing#writerscommunity#writerscorner#writer#lierature#cynical#cynic#free verse#free form#Stories#autobiographical fiction#art#literure#howispentmysummervacation#september sky
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Engaged | Mat Barzal
Requested? Nope
Warnings? None
Summary: Mat proposes to you
Word Count: 1,929
Everything in italics is a flashback!
“Good morning (y/n)!!” you hear someone yell and you instinctively pull the covers over your head.
The person jumps onto your bed, pulling the covers back down and your eyes peek open to see your best friend grinning above you.
“Tito, go away,” you groan trying to yank the covers back.
“(y/n), get up,” he says
You shake your head and hide further away into your bed. Tito being his excited puppy-like self won’t take no for an answer and finds your waist, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you up out of bed. You end up in his arms bridal style, with a look on your face that could kill.
“Choose your next words wisely,” you warn, finally opening your eyes to look at him.
“I have coffee and food downstairs. Take a shower and then we can go shopping,” he says and a smile creeps onto your face.
“Wise man.”
Tito grins, carrying you into the bathroom and dropping you down before telling you he’ll be downstairs. You shower quickly, getting dressed in something decently cute, and head down to the kitchen where Tito waits.
“There’s my girl,” he says and you curtsey fakely making Beau laugh.
“Yeah yeah. Where’s my coffee?”
Beau laughs, holding your coffee out to you which you happily take. You take a sip and hum in agreement. Beau laughs once more and you spin, heading towards the door.
“Well let’s go!”
The minute Mat received the text from his best friend that you and he were off shopping, he heads over to their shared apartment. He anxiously grabs everything, the rose petals, the outfit he would change into, the ring, and anything else he thinks he needs to propose. He bounces around the apartment, anxiety running through him, as he runs through the plan in his head one more time.
He had wanted to propose to you for ages. The idea coming strongly to him one night when he came home late from a game, your sleeping form curled into the couch, wearing his jersey, and your homework set out before you. He leaned against the doorframe and thought that he wanted to come home to you every single night. And every single day after that, that was the only thought in his head. That he needed you here, with him forever.
He employed the use of Beau, both of yours best friend. He knew he had to get everything ready and had to get you out of the house for the day so you wouldn’t be suspicious of his actions. He told Beau to get you a cute outfit and go as far as get your nails done together for the day before Beau would bring you to the building where he was proposing. He hoped everything was going to go perfectly.
You were becoming slightly suspicious more and more as the day went on. You weren’t sure exactly what was going on, but when Beau suggested you tried on every dress you set your eyes on, decided he would pay for most of your clothes, and then said you should get your nails done and the two of you could talk during it you knew something was up.
Far be it from you to decline a free manicure, so as you and Beau sat together at the salon you cast your eyes over to him.
“What is going on?” you ask and he coughs, stuttering for a moment before responding.
“Nothing? Why would something be going on?”
“No reason,” you decide and he nods.
Once your nails are done Beau tells you there’s one more place you have to stop. You get to the strangely familiar building, the two of you climbing to the top floor. Your nerves take over as Beau leads you to a room. He casts you a smile before swinging the door open. Your jaw drops at the sight before you.
It was a penthouse, one of the more gorgeous ones you had ever seen. Rose petals litter the floor, light music playing in the background, and there was Mat standing just past it all. A white button-down stretches across his broad shoulders, gray slacks falling over his legs. His back is turned to you and you take a moment to gaze over his figure.
“Go,” Beau whispers behind you.
You smile at your best friend, making a mental note to thank him later. You step into the penthouse and the door shutting causes Mat to look at you. He turns, his hair falling over his eyes and a nervous smile appearing on his lips.
“Come here,” he says holding a hand out to you.
You make your way over, a nervous step about you but you take his hand and he pulls you in. Mat wraps an arm around your waist, pecking your lips nervously before taking a step back.
“Hi baby,” he says.
“Hi. What’s all this?” you ask your head swiveling to take in the decorations, the music, and the gorgeous view.
“Okay I’m gonna say a lot right now, so just give it a second before you say anything okay?”
You nod and Mat smiles, intertwining your hands in front of him. You look up into his stunning hazel eyes and a smile widens across your lips.
“Do you like the view?” he asks and you finally cast your eyes across the balcony to see the skyscrapers littering the sky, a beautiful sunset falling in the back.
“It’s beautiful,” you breathe out and Mat smiles, staring lovingly down at you.
“Yeah, it is.” You turn to look back at him and Mat grins at you.
“My love, you have been the most important thing in my life since I’ve met you. I know every single person from announcers to the press to media to even fans has hyped me up and given me the biggest ego possible. But none of it matters unless I have you by my side.”
You let go of one of Mat’s hands, to come up to your mouth, shaking nervously.
“You bring out the best in me, you always have. And there are millions of girls who throw themselves at me when I’m on the road,”
Your smile drops for a moment, your head tilting to look at Mat and he giggles lightly. He holds his free hand up, telling you to wait a moment.
“Hey (y/n/n),” you turn to look at Tito, and he nods his head in the opposite direction.
You look to see a girl, hand wrapped tightly around Mat’s bicep, and gazing up at him as if he’s the greatest thing God has ever made. She wasn’t wrong to look at him that way, but you should be the only one to do that.
You grimace at Tito, handing him your drink which he takes, smiling knowingly. You march over, trying to keep your jealousy in check as you approach Mat and the random girl.
“Well hi darling,” you greet coldly and Mat looks up at you, panic flashing across his face before a proud smile sits upon his face.
“And you are?” you ask swiveling your attention onto the girl.
“I’m,” she starts and you hold your hand up to stop her.
“Not his girlfriend I’ll tell you that.”
The girl flounders before you flash her a smile that gets her to turn and rush away. You turn to Mat, and he shakes his head, a laugh approaching his lips as he raises his glass.
“You are terrifying when you’re jealous,” he says and you smile.
“Just protecting what’s mine,” you shrug and Mat sets his glass down.
“No need. I’m not gonna go anywhere.”
“But none of them are you. No one will ever compare to you. You are my everything. You make my stomach erupt in butterflies every time I see you and you remind me that all of those cheesy love songs are true. And as much as you jokingly say you hate it, I know you love it when I serenade you”
“Mathew Barzal come back here!” you call to your boyfriend who rushes up to the microphone in the middle of the bar.
“Hi everyone,” he says and you press your face into your hands.
“I just wanted to come up and sing some karaoke! This song goes out to my beautiful girlfriend.”
You groan, the rest of the boys you came out with laughing and patting you on the back as they watch their teammate and your boyfriend make an absolute idiot of himself on stage. It was one of your favorite songs, and you smile like a dork, holding a hand up to your lip as you bite it trying to push the smile away.
“Baby, I love you!” Mat yells at the end of the song.
You cackle loudly and Mat makes his way over to you, pressing a kiss to your lips.
“And even if you’re not listening to me serenade you, I know you’re here for me through anything and everything. Fuck you would bail me out of jail if I needed it,” he says and you giggle lightly and nod.
“And you’ve loved me on my best days,”
You sit anxiously waiting for Barzy to come out of the locker room. The isles just won the game that gets them into the playoffs, and you were beyond excited to sit and watch every game. Just as you were looking around, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your waist.
You shriek, before giggling loudly knowing Mat’s strong arms around you. He sets you down, and you spin around, your arms coming to wrap around his shoulders. He slips his around your waist, holding you tight against him. You both giggle excitedly, and Mat pulls away for a moment quickly pressing a kiss to your lips.
“You’re going to the playoffs!!” you yell and he smiles wide.
“And you’ve supported me, cheered me on, and loved me through the worst ones,” he continues.
“And darling,” he says, grabbing your hands again and you look up at him.
“You’re even there to take care of me when I’m fucked up,” he admits and you laugh.
“Baaaaby!!! Oh, baby girl!!” Mat yells and you flinch knowing he’s drunk.
You turn and Mat drapes himself over you, the alcohol apparent on his breath. He smiles lopsidedly, pointing to someone random over your shoulder.
“Hey! This is my girl, and I love her so much!!” he yells drunkenly, and you grin.
“And my love, you’re drunk.”
Mat frowns at this accusation, but when he sees your face again, a smile reappears. You grin, falling for this boy even more at the moment before grabbing one of his hands to rest firmly over your shoulder and dragging him out of the party.
“And this is easily the longest speech of my entire life, but you’re everything to me. I come alive when I’m around you and you always bring out the best in me and I-” he pauses and you squeeze his hands in encouragement.
He keels down, pulling one hand away and digging out a velvet box. He pops it open, before casting his eyes back up at you.
“I guess what I’m saying is that I fuckin’ love you. And I want to know if you will marry me?”
“Mat you’re so dumb of course,” you say diving into his arms.
“I love you so much,” you tell him pulling back as he slips the rings on your finger.
#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal x y/n#mat barzal fic#mathew barzal imagine#mathew barzal x reader#mathew barzal x y/n#mathew barzal fic#nhl islanders fic#nhl x y/n#nhl fanfiction#nhl x reader#nhl imagine#islanders fic#islanders x reader#islanders imagine#bravebesson
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Traitor Aizawa AU Pt. 3 — 1, 2:
Shouta ran away in the middle of the night. When Hizashi woke up, it was to an empty bed, to fists pounding at their shared suite, to UA in lockdown. Hizashi was immediately forced outside & taken in for questioning.
Shouta had left Nezu a resignation letter, in his own unmistakable handwriting. It's blunt, concise, & it contains detailed descriptions & evidence of his betrayal. It makes no excuses for his actions & it does not discuss his motivations.
When Shouta visits that night weeks upon weeks later, he says nothing of the letter & nothing of his motivations. Shouta is silent as Hizashi sobs, dutifully keeping his Quirk erased as asked. It's been a pressure building on Hizashi for far too long, so when the dam breaks, there's no stopping it. It's an unwelcome but necessary catharsis—one he needs because of Shouta, one he can have because of him. Hizashi cries himself to sleep in his husband's arms.
& in the morning, again, he wakes up alone. It could have been a dream, but this time there's a note on his nightstand. It's painfully simple, the script rushed: I'm sorry I couldn't be here when you wake up. I'm sorry it has to be like this. I want to talk with you soon. I love you, Hizashi.
He should report this. Shouta betrayed UA, he's a wanted villain, & he expressed interest in taking Eri. Hizashi should turn in the letter.
Hizashi makes himself a coffee, & he sets the letter in front of him, & he stares at it blankly while the Sun rises slowly outside. The moment the light hits it, it's like the decision has made itself. Hizashi puts the letter through their paper shredder, tucks the pieces into his pocket, buys a muffin at a coffee shop, & throws half of them away in his napkin in one trash can, half of them in another down the road. He doesn’t tell a soul. Not Nemuri. Not Eri. Not Nezu.
He has to see Shouta again.
It’s two weeks before there’s another Shouta sighting. One day Hizashi comes home & senses the difference immediately. &, oddly, it's not a bad different. He knows exactly what it means. So, he takes off his gear in the entryway. Locks the door. Takes a few calming breaths before he calls into the apartment: “Honey, I’m home.”
He steps into the bedroom. Sure enough, Shouta is sitting on the bed.
Hizashi stops. He looks like shit. Exhausted, face sallow like he hasn’t been eating, eyes red & irritated like he hasn’t been using his eye drops. It occurs to Hizashi that his prescription probably ran out. He can remember the last time he picked up a bottle from the pharmacy; he’d teased Shouta about his 'special eyes' that regular eye drops don’t work on. “How did you know I was here.” His voice is rough too. Hizashi wants to offer him water, a meal, something. He hovers in the doorway.
“I’ve felt your absence since you left. Of course I know when it’s changed.”
Shouta says nothing. Hizashi relents slightly, asks him if he’s eaten. As expected, he gets a shake of the head. Hizashi turns on a heel, brings the both of them tea & leftover takeout. Shouta scrunches his eyebrows in confusion when Hizashi hands him what’s always Shouta’s order. Hizashi shrugs, nonchalant as if he didn’t take up ordering it after Shouta left. Shouta opens his mouth to speak, but Hizashi holds up a hand. “Eat.”
& they do, in silence. Shouta is positively ravenous. Hizashi has so many questions. So many questions. But he shares this strange meal with his husband, wordlessly offering Shouta what he doesn’t finish as well. Finally, Shouta clears his throat. “You didn’t tell anybody about me.”
Hizashi doesn’t have it in him to glare—to make any expression, really. It’s all very… heavy. Fragile. Ephemeral. Breakable. Dangerous. Wrong. Hizashi purses his lips. “You’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do.”
He winces. "Hizashi, I wish I could tell you everything, but I can't."
Hizashi swallows the emotions that rise like bile in his throat, a potent mixture of fury & nausea. He has little control of what falls from his mouth. “You know, somebody referred to you as my ex the other day.”
Shouta’s expression is pained. He shakes his head & pulls his wedding ring out from its necklace tucked away as always in his ratty costume. Hizashi almost laughs. When Shouta commits to something, he commits fully, with his whole chest. It’s why so much of this doesn’t make any goddamn sense. It all threatens to choke him, but he laughs around the lump in his throat & shakes his head too, taking Shouta’s hand & squeezing hard to imprint the indent of the ring he put there into his palm. “It’s just not right, man.”
This time, Hizashi takes a page from Shouta’s book & bumps their foreheads together like a cat. Hizashi offers a watery smile. Shouta lets his eyes fall closed, inhales deeply. “I know it was too much to ask in my letter for you to believe that I'm still the person you believe me to be, but…” Hizashi freezes and pulls back, causing him to trail off.
“Shouta… what are you talking about?”
A flash of confusion, then fear crosses Shouta’s face. “The first letter I wrote to you. When I… When I left.” Shouta’s eyes search his for any sign of recognition, clearly troubled when he finds none. “I wrote everyone in my class letters. & Nezu. & Kayama. Hell, even Yagi—do you really think I wouldn’t face you of all—”
“—Shouta. None of those people received letters. Besides Nezu. I read your… resignation letter. Saw the evidence you laid out so logically for him. But I…” Hizashi’s blood suddenly grows cold. “Shou, the police took me down to the station that morning & searched the apartment. I didn’t think they took anything.” His breathing picks up. “They never told me anything about a letter—”
Shouta is barely breathing. Finally, after a long pause he swallows. “Nezu. Nezu must have found his first & arranged for a search & seizure. He would have extrapolated there were more.” He wipes a weary hand down his face, shaking his head. “You never… None of the students…” He covers his eyes, which must be aching. Hizashi has never been hesitant to offer physical reassurance to Shouta Aizawa, but he hesitates here & hates that he does. He pulls Shouta close with an arm over the shoulders.
“It’s alright,” he lies. Shouta knows. “We can talk now.”
So Shouta reiterates what was in the letter: what he’s done, how he loves him, how he wouldn't leave or do this without him if he had a choice, how he intends to return when this is settled, how in the meantime he would trust nobody else to watch over his students & Eri, how he needs Hizashi to trust that he is who Hizashi knows him to be.
“How am I supposed to be certain of that?” Hizashi whispers when he’s done.
It hurts him, Hizashi can see that. But all of this hurts. “I don’t know how to answer that.” They’re still holding hands. “But I want to,” he adds. “I want to prove it to you.”
“I want that too.”
There’s a tension in the air as they hover, faces close, uncertain if it would be okay to kiss each other. They think better of it, pull back with small sighs.
Instead, they discuss Eri. Shouta has been watching from afar when he can safely. He knew how she was struggling with her Quirk. He saw the doctor visits that hadn’t improved anything. He wanted to help. He also knew that he couldn’t sneak into UA forever, that the instant UA caught wind of it security would render it impossible & arrange for his capture. But if she’s with him, he can still help.
Hizashi shakes his head. “Shou, wherever you’ve been, it’s nowhere fit for a child. Your Quirk helps her, but her support network is here at UA. You were part of that network. & now you’re not. She is not leaving UA.”
Shouta shrinks, & after a moment he nods. He was always one to listen to reason. Hizashi, again, has to relent. As far as he can tell, Shouta only wants what’s best for her & it’s killing him not to be able to participate in that. So Hizashi elbows him lightly & pulls up pictures on his phone of all Eri has been up to lately, some of the students also making appearances. He leans Shouta onto his shoulder. It’s a tender moment. Almost normal. But all too soon it has to end. It’s not safe for Shouta to stay the night & there’s a certain window of time he has to catch to slip past security.
Shouta says he’ll return. He squeezes Hizashi’s hand as he goes to the window—the hand with his ring on it. Promises.
(pt. 4)
#isaythings#fic#traitor aizawa au#traitor!aizawa#angst#erasermic#but wait! there’s more! <3#i will keep talking abt this whether or not any1 asks abt it & that’s a threat fjdjdj#but you’re also welcome to ask abt it 👀👀#in case it 👀👀#inspires smthn 👀👀
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A priority.
summary: Y/N defends herself from the hate and Harry gets mad.
word count: 1.9k
warnings: angst!
a/n: a little something to hold onto until i finish some requests for my shy little boy, hope you like this! (i’m on a roll, sorry for posting so much mjsiw)
you can find the rest of my masterlist here
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Ugly. Worthless. Bitch. And her personal favorite, slut. Those words along with some others were all over Y/N’s social media accounts every single day.
Ever since some bloody paparazzi took a picture of Harry and Y/N holding hands while shopping, Y/N couldn’t go online without having thousands of strangers on the internet throwing names at her.
She should’ve seen it coming, honestly. It was stupid to think they could hide their relationship forever, she just wished fans wouldn’t be so aggressive towards her.
Y/N wanted to understand, she really did. For a solid week she convinced herself they were just being protective over Harry, but after the insults and derogatory comments about her imagine didn’t stop, she started to grow annoyed. She started believing fans just didn’t want to see him happy.
Y/N had to bit her tongue numerous times, knowing that if she stood up for herself, it would only be worse. So she tried to ignore it.
She didn’t stop using social media, why the hell would she stop having a life because of fans that couldn’t contain their need to harass every person Harry became close with?
A month after the pictures of them were out for the entire world to see, Harry had to travel to the States for work. He was supposed to be away for only two weeks, and Y/N was going to stay at his house a couple of days before his arrival so they can spend time together right away.
Laying on the couch, Y/N scrolled mindlessly through her Instagram feed, seeing what her friends and family were up to. She rolled her eyes when her notifications started to go off, not really wanting to enter and see her entire comment section below her posts full of hate towards her.
But curiosity killed the cat.
Promising herself she would only have a look, she clicked her notifications. She had posted a picture yesterday when she went out with a couple of her girlfriend, so all the comments were directed towards that post.
She’s dressed like a slut here
Can’t believe Harry is dating her…
He can do so much better, what a shame
It can be so easy to slip into a mindset where she let these type of things affect her and her confidence, but she simply chose not to. These people didn’t know her, and probably never will.
I can’t wait for harry to realize the kind of whore you are and dumps your fucking ass.
Oh well, that’s hilarious. Now she was mad. Probably picking a fight wasn’t the smartest decision she’s ever made, but she couldn’t help it. She let the anger speak for itself as she pressed the reply bottom and started writing directly to that specific comment.
‘So he can date you instead or what?”
Send.
Y/N dropped her phone on her lap, deciding it was enough internet for the day. She decided to move to the kitchen and start on the cupcakes she had previously planned to bake her boyfriend. Harry wasn’t one to allow himself to eat a lot of unhealthy stuff, as he has always tried to be as healthy as possible. But, man, cupcakes were something Harry absolutely loved.
She didn’t really touched her phone for the rest of the afternoon, staying busy in other things. She had a facetime call with Harry at night, and she was looking forward to see his face, even if it was only through the phone. Her phone didn’t have enough battery, so she turned on her computer to wait for Harry’s call.
The screen lightened, showing Harry’s upcoming call. Y/N furrowed, thinking he was way earlier but she wouldn’t complain about it. She answered the call, expecting to see her beautiful boyfriend’s dimpled smile on the screen, but she was surprised when she saw a serious look instead.
“Why would you do that, Y/N?” he asked sternly.
“Do what?” Was this some kind of joke?
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Y/N. Don’t play dumb”
“Excuse me?” she raised her eyebrows. “Maybe if you explained what you mean we could talk about it”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Do you have any idea how disrespectful it was from you to answer like that to a fan? It was unnecessary and, to be honest, childish from you”
Y/N was surprised. “Yeah, maybe I was rude but I don’t think I was being childish, Harry”
“Yes, you were. Are you aware of how this makes me look? You can’t just say things like those and don’t think it wouldn’t affect my image too”
Well, what the fuck. “Ah, yes. Treat people with kindness and whatnot. I guess that doesn’t include your fucking girlfriend, because the only reason why I said what I said was because your bloody fans wouldn’t stop harassing me!” Now her face had a deep frown.
“You sure you’re not being a little dramatic? I mean, how bad could the hate get?”
“How bad?! Harry, do you even go online? To them I’m nothing but a fucking whore, do you have any idea of how fucking frustrating is to be treated like you’re the worst human being by your fans just because we’re dating?”
“There’s always gonna be people like that, Y/N” he sighed. “You need to learn how to ignore it”
“Do you think I haven’t tried? I’m sorry but it is not my fault the fans can’t contain themselves from sending death threats to every person that breaths close to you!” she paused. “Do you seriously just called me to scold me?”
“Well, I’m not happy about what you did, to be honest. They’re my fans, Y/N. They deserve to be respected”
“And I don’t?” she raised an eyebrow. “You know what? I’m done. Enjoy your day alone tomorrow because I’m fucking leaving”
“Leaving? What do you mean?” Harry’s pulse started to rise, watching his girlfriend stand up from the bed, the computer moved and he saw she was in his house. “Y/N, don’t leave. We’ll talk about this tomorrow”
“No, I’ve heard enough. I don’t want to talk to you right now” She closed her computer, hanging up. She put on her jacket and took her phone from the nightstand.
Before she exited the house, she went to the kitchen and threw the cupcakes she made in the trash.
Harry, you fucking asshole.
They’ve only dated for seven months and have never really got into a fight before. Y/N was a very impulsive person, more so when she was mad. Fuck, she knew his fans were important to him, she understood that. But it was becoming too much for Y/N to handle.
She loved Harry, she was truly in love with him. But was it really worth it to go through all of this if he wasn’t even willing to stand up for her?
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Harry changed his flights. After Y/N hung up on him, he realized he behaved like a proper asshole. He could’ve said so many things differently, without offending her the way he did.
He didn’t like she thought she wasn’t important to him. He was scared all the baggage he carried with him was a deal breaker for her, it has been on the past for almost every other relationship he has ever had.
It wasn’t fair of him to straight up scold her without hearing her first. He was upset and didn’t think enough before speaking, and now he regretted it.
He knew he needed to fix things. Fast.
Even though the night before Y/N made very clear she wasn’t staying, a part of him still hoped to see her curled up on the couch watching Netflix and waiting for him to arrive, but he was welcomed by an empty house.
He sighed, passing his hand through his curls, thinking how he could make it up to her. He went to the kitchen, where he kept his car keys. Harry stopped his tracks when he saw the trash can.
His heart dropped to his stomach when he noticed the homemade untouched cupcakes tossed into the trash.
He better make this right.
❁ ❁ ❁ ❁
Y/N was bored. She had cleared her schedule because Harry was coming home and now she had nothing to do other than drown on her sorrows.
Being bored and upset at her boyfriend, made her take the decision to take an afternoon nap on her couch. She had been asleep for a little while when someone started banging at the door.
You see, Harry had a key to her place, but he feel undeserving of using it after the way he treated her. But she wasn’t answering, and it wasn’t because she wasn’t home, he had seen her car in the parking lot of her apartment building.
Keying into her place, he looked around for his girlfriend, finding her sleeping figure on the couch, a blanked wrapped around her. He didn’t want to wake her up but they really needed to talk, so he kneeled down to be at the same eye level.
“Y/N… Y/N, wake up” he shook her a little. Her eyelashes fluttered a little before her eyes opened, a frown immediately appearing on her face.
“What are you doing here?” She sat down, taking the blanked off of her and crossing her arms.
“I’m so sorry, baby”
“Now I’m baby? Not the childish Y/N you were scolding yesterday?”
He sighed, moving to sit in the coffee table to be in front of her. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved yesterday, it wasn’t fair for you”
“It wasn’t”
“I was upset, Jeff had sent me a screenshot of the comment and I didn’t even check social media. It was impulsive and wrong from me and I apologize”
“I don’t like the way you talked to me yesterday, Harry”
“I know. If I could take it back, I would in a heartbeat. Please don’t leave me over this, my love” he grabbed her hands, feeling tears threaten to spill out of his eyes. “I know it isn’t fair for you, I know you’ll have to put up to so much shit, but please, please don’t give up on us. I swear I’ll make it right, Y/N, I don’t want these kind of situations get in the way of us”
“I’m not going to leave you” she mumbled. “I’m upset, yes. I know I was wrong too, but it all got too much and i… snapped. I know these kind of things affect your image and reputation too, so I’m sorry”
“I don’t care about my image. I should’ve said something sooner, before it all went out of control. I suppose I ignored it, hoping you’d do the same. I’m sorry for not checking up with you about this”
Y/N gave him a little smile, pulling from his hands to make him sit beside her. She wrapped her arms around his torso, pushing herself into his chest. “I know your fans are important to you, and you love them. I swear I want to have a good relationship with them, because they’re a huge part of your life, and I’m gonna work on that, I promise”
“And I promise I’ll stand up for you. I love my fans, so much. But you’re my girlfriend, my priority” he kissed her forehead. “I love you, Y/N, my baby”
“I love you more, love” she planted little kisses on his chin and jaw.
“Enough to make me more cupcakes?” Y/N let out a belly laugh, nodding. “Good. You owe me after you threw those to the trash”
“That’s what you get for being a meanie”
#harry styles imagine#harry styles#harry styles imagines#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles one shot#harry styles angst#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fic#harry styles x you#harry styles fanfiction
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DREAMING OF YOU D.W.
Request: hiii can i request an angsty older damian fic where he and the reader broke up but are still very much in love? maybe based out of the song "dream a little dream of me"? the ending is totally up to you!
Warning: angst
A/N: Lol I’ve been so preoccupied with the Halloween prompts I keep forgetting I have requested fics in my drafts. Anyways, I don’t know if this was exactly what you wanted but I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 2.2k
Damian Wayne was the best thing to ever happen to you.
Damian came into your life when you were at your lowest. He was the one that helped you to climb out of that never ending pit that you were stuck in. He made you see the good in the world and that you could still find your own happiness. In the end of it all, you found happiness in him.
It was the little things that you found joy in again. Waking up early enough to see the sunrise. Ice cream on hot summer days. A walk in the park with Titus. Fresh produce from a farmers market. It was those things that drove you to see the light again, all because Damian was willing to stick by your side.
You started planning your life again. Finishing your last two years of your university degree. Buying a new apartment that wasn’t in the slums of Gotham. Reconnecting with family members that you hadn't talked with in months - some even years. You wanted a fresh start, and you had created one.
Damian got you back on track without even realizing it. He gave you hope for the future. Life with him was perfect. You couldn't imagine a future without him. He bled his heart and soul into your relationship, just as you did. Damian was the best thing to ever happen to you.
Until he wasn't.
The secrets, the lies, it caused fights between you. Damian hid part of his life from you and you couldn't understand why he was being so protective of it. You had opened yourself completely to him, and he couldn't be bothered to do the same. He loved you, there was no doubt about that. It was whether or not he devoted himself as much as you ever did.
You began questioning your entire relationship with him. How much of it was built on his lies? What even were his lies? The more you thought about it, the more you realized that you had only scratched to surface of who Damian really was. You didn't know anything about him, and he didn't want to tell you. He couldn’t.
Which led to the hard decision of whether or not you were willing to keep a relationship that was so one sided. How could you love someone when they were only willing to show a certain side of themselves? The answer: you couldn't. You loved Damian, you would forever. But it came down to the ultimatum of showing the real him or leaving.
Apparently Damian never loved you as much as you thought he did. He was gone by morning.
For weeks your dreams were plagued of him, mundane dreams that felt so real. Him waking you up for the sunrise that shone so perfectly into your window. Instead, when you opened your eyes, grey clouds were all that you could see. The days weren't nearly as pretty without Damian there to share it's beauty with you.
The bed was no longer filled with love and warmth. It was cold, you dreaded getting into it. His side was empty, though his smell still lingered no matter how many times you tried washing it away. Titus' fur would be found in your blankets and a random toy stuck under your couch. He probably missed you more than Damian did.
You swore you saw Damian everywhere after your breakup. At the drive through of your favourite fast food place, the park where you used to sit together, hell you thought you saw him at the grocery store. Damian didn't like grocery shopping, he never went. You felt delusional with seeing him everywhere.
At night when you were alone on the streets, you felt an eerily similar presence as him following you. Sometimes at night that same feeling would draw you towards your window and stare out of it in hopes to see his familiar green eyes. You were disappointed every time.
You never wanted to break up with him. You hoped so desperately that you could have worked things out with him. He was perfect for you, and you to him. Being without him was killing you inside. You missed his love, his smile, his touch, even that adorable little tick he had. TT. You hated when you picked it up and continued to use it without him.
You didn't know it, but Damian was a bigger mess without you.
He missed you more than he ever missed anyone or anything in his life. At home he was quiet, only keeping company with his pets. He refused conversation with his father or Alfred. Dick couldn’t even get through to him. Being back in the manor was something he didn't imagine himself doing. Yet, here he was.
His night life became more violent. He didn't have a fear of holding back his punches anymore because you would never find out his secret. His fucking secret. That was the reason that you were out of his life. Knowing that he was Robin? He didn't want to taint your beautiful life with that.
More times than not he would watch over you. Whether it was when you were walking home or at your apartment. He just needed to know that you were okay. Okay and alive were two very different things. Damian learned that very quickly. Without you, he wasn't sure if he would be okay ever again.
Damian craved your kiss. He didn't realize how lucky he was to even have a small peck here and there until it was taken away from him. There was nothing he wanted to do more than to rush to you and tell you how much he missed you. To hold you in his arms one last time and kiss you until your legs gave out.
He had dreams of you at night. Dreams of you laying in his arms with a smile on your face. You would tell him about your day and how much you loved him. He felt the warmth of you until the moment he woke up. Then, it was nothing but coldness. A dark, lonely room without any sign of you.
You were the best thing to ever happen to him.
It was that moment when he decided that he had made the biggest mistake of his life. If he cared about you enough, he should have been willing to let you decide if you wanted to stay in his life after knowing his secret. If he wanted you to be with him, then you were going to have to learn it one day.
It seemed easier to hurt you now, than it would have to be hurt by you after knowing everything he had done. Damian took the easy way out. He should have fought for you, trusted you with his secrets. He couldn't let you escape him, not while there was still a strand of hope.
Damian launched himself out of bed. It was nearing two in the morning but he didn't care. He needed to see you right now. He raced across the city on his cycle, passing all the streets in a blur. The way from his father's home to yours was etched into his brain. He could have made it there with his eyes closed if he so wanted to.
The kickstand on his bike was barely pulled out and his helmet thrown to the ground. Damian ran to your doorstep and feverishly knocked on your door. He was most likely to wake you, but it was worth it. He was ready to spill his heart and soul out to you and plead for you to take him back.
To his surprise, you opened the door relatively fast. You looked so effortlessly beautiful. A pair of shorts on a bag shirt - his shirt. Your hair was sopping wet and it was clear that you had just gotten out of the shower. Bags were under your eyes and you looked like you hadn't slept since your break up.
You stood there, mouth agape, unsure of what the hell he was doing at your door step at two in the morning on a Wednesday. It was raining out, Damian's hair matched your own. He was soaked to the bone and his clothes clung to him. A desperate look was on his face.
"Damian..." You breathed out. He looked like a wreck. Creases around his eyes that had never been there before were evident. His hands trembled at his sides - though that might have just been from the cold. "What're you doing here?"
"I needed to see you," Damian started. His heart clenched at the sight of you. "I needed to apologize for everything that I did, for keeping things from you. I was so scared that if you knew the truth about me that I would lose you."
"You lost me anyways, Damian," You shook your head. He was the one that decided to walk out on you after you were willing to put in the work. It was Damian that made that decision, he lost you because he choose to. All of this was his fault and only his fault - the secrets he kept, the choices he made.
"Please, please just let me explain everything," Damian begged. He didn't know if he could ever live with himself if you turned him away in this moment. "If you want me to leave after, I will. You'll never have to see or hear from me again, just... I can't go on anymore knowing that there's someway that I can try to fix this. That there’s still a chance of getting you back."
You crossed your arms over your chest, debating whether or not you were willing to be hurt by him again. Damian was the love of your life, he would always be the love of your life. Letting him explain himself too you, that was either going to be the ticket he needed back into your life, or the closure you finally needed. Or something far worse.
So, maybe mistakenly, you opened the door wider to let Damian in. Your home hadn't changed much in the weeks that he was gone. It was messier, but otherwise identical. Several picture frames of the two of you were turned down, but not put away. His hoodie that he left behind was still strewn across the back of the chair.
He thanked you as you handed him a towel. Damian sat on your coffee table directly across from your spot on the couch. He paused for a moment, wondering where to begin and how far back he needed to go. If you were going to take him back after that night, you would deserve to know everything.
For now, he started with his arrival in Gotham City all those years ago.
He told of you his life with his father, his brothers. The teams that he had been on and the struggles that he had been through. Damian told you of his hardships, his dreams, his failures. He told you of the times that he had lost all hope and the times that you had given some back to him.
Damian told you everything there was to know about his life as Robin.
By the end of it, you were in tears. All those times that he lied to you about what he was going or where he was going, his 'business trips' for his father, they were all because he was risking his life to be Robin. Damian was a hero, and you were too oblivious to even notice. You were so focused on his lies that you didn't want to see why he was doing so. Everything he did was to protect you.
Damian reached forward and wiped away your tears. He didn't want to see you upset from his. Your bottom lip trembled. You felt horrible for being cruel to him so many times because you didn't know the truth. Without another thought, you leaped into his arms.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," You sobbed against him. Damian kissed the top of your head. He cupped your cheeks, making you meet his eyes. His gaze flickered down to your lips for a split second before looking back to yours. It was a subtle way of asking if it as okay. You answered by initiating your long awaited kiss.
The weeks apart left a yearning for you both. This kiss was the one thing that both of you craved most. The tenderness of it, the love that fueled it. You felt like you were going to combust from how much you missed his kisses. Your dreams of him kissing you were nothing compared to this.
"I love you," Damian pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. He was petrified to let you go again, scared that you wouldn't come back this time. Dreams of you would never be enough for him. Damian needed you like he needed air. "I can't live without you. I dreamed of you ever night."
"I wished upon the stars every night hoping that you would come back to me," You confessed. "Please don't leave me again."
"Never, beloved."
#damian wayne#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne oneshot#damian wayne x reader#older!damian#robin#robin imagine#dc imagine#dc one shot#dc#batfam#batfam imagine#fluff#angst
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The Black Bulls and their bullshit in the modern time: jobs I guess – Part. 3
Finally the last part is done! Thanks for following the short series of my cursed imagination until now. Here's more headcanons that weren't supposed to be headcanons :D. I made them a little longer than the previous parts, and I hope you all enjoy the mess that is Charmy's restaurant!
Magna Swing
works at the counter in Charmy’s restaurant
nobody knows how he got that job when he shows up to work looking like a teen delinquent going through puberty
keeps his sunglasses on even in indoors
had to learn how to use the cashier machine for the first time
accidentally repeated the order with the machine too many times and the total came out to a four-digit number
the customer got a discount in the end
there was one time when the machine malfunctioned and they thought they had to buy a new one
Magna came in and gave the thing a big smack, and it miraculously started to work again
Noelle gave him the title 'God of Fixing Things Through Abuse', shortened to 'FTTA God'
and now everybody at work refers to him with that title
he doesn’t like it because he’d rather be referred to as something cooler, but he lets them call him that anyway
has very short temper, will not hesitate to call out rude customers
someone once made an offhanded comment about Secré who was too busy to care and he went OFF
both Noelle and Secré had to work together to calm him down when he threatened to fight them outside of the restaurant
wanted to help out in the kitchen because he thinks he has a “thing” with fire, and Charmy let him try when working hours were over
proceeded to set the whole kitchen on fire and from then on Charmy forbade him from going into the kitchen ever again
convinced Charmy to buy a TV and put it in the restaurant so that he can watch baseball games when working
but he once switched the channel to a cartoon show and lost the remote
now he’s forever stuck on watching Miraculous Ladybug
Luck Voltia
King of Working Part Time Jobs™
works at every single shop known to date and jumps between each shop from time to time
sometimes he’ll be in the boutique:
running around the whole store to help customers look for their needed items because he didn’t memorise where each section was
and proceeds to mess up the folded clothes and now Henry has to fold them again
sometimes he’ll be in the restaurant:
ordering and serving the customers their food, even though he doesn’t remember which order belongs to which table
and also cleaning the tables when the customers finish eating
but it’s the best thing he can do there because absolutely no one trusts him in working in the kitchen
and sometimes he’ll be in the café:
bringing out coffee and dessert orders during rush hour because the others are too busy taking orders and making them
and when the shop clears up after a while he spends time watching Finral and Grey brew the drinks
the other bulls wonder how he hasn’t been fired from any of his jobs yet
but that’s because he surprisingly does well for the roles he was assigned to (and extremely fast too)
the only time he has messed up was when he ran too fast when serving food and he tripped and it spilled all over the place
and he went “oops! hahaha ;P”
Magna watching from the counter: i’m gonna kill him
stole the TV remote from Magna when he wasn’t looking and brought it to the boutique so he couldn’t switch channels
always competes with Magna on who can earn the most money
and it somehow always ends in a draw because Secré earns the most out of all of them
Secré Swallowtail
waitress at Charmy’s restaurant pt. 1
was dragged into working there, doesn’t even know why she’s doing it in the first place
but she works well, and store would have fallen apart if she wasn’t there
unanimously voted Employee of the Month every month
takes part in everything; including cleaning, serving, making drinks, settling payments, calming down crying children, calming down a hyper Luck
you name it, and she probably does it or has done it before for the sake of the restaurant
unlike Noelle and Magna, she's extremely unbothered
doesn’t matter if there’s someone being rude or causing a ruckus, she shrugs it off like it’s nothing and just moves on
she’s focused on doing her job and her job only
will only take action if she is touched physically or if other customers are visibly bothered
was the person who consoled Magna when he found out the TV remote went missing
but didn’t tell him that he could actually switch the channels without using the remote
death stares everyone to work when they are slacking off
the person who forced everyone into practicing fire drills in case of emergencies
hums the opening of Miraculous Ladybug because she has heard it playing too much from the speakers
and also because Magna screams the words of the song every time the show airs
is secretly thankful for Luck whenever he visits for his part-time shift
because he picked up the mechanisms of the restaurant SUPER FAST, and things run surprisingly much smoother with him around
lets Noelle style her hair whenever they have free time
ends up looking like a chicken because Noelle has no prior experience in hairstyling despite showing interest in it
and also because she used too much hair spray
Noella Silva
waitress at Charmy’s restaurant pt. 2
claims that she is too high class for this job
but next thing you know she’s putting on her customer service voice when ordering and serving food
took awhile to learn how to work in a restaurant
she couldn't hold the food tray and walk at the same time
and she kept serving the dishes to the wrong table
blamed it on the customers for confusing her, and Secré showed up afterwards to apologise for her behaviour
definitely had 'How to become a Waitress 101' lessons with Secré
takes absolutely no shit from anyone
doesn’t matter how much authority they have around the area, she will not hesitate to kick them out if they don’t treat others properly
would probably spill water on a customer and blame it on the customer for being in the way
becomes more diligent whenever Asta brings the children he's babysitting to the restaurant
also keeps tabs on his table just in case anyone starts to hit on him
rich, but doesn't take it for granted
because she doesn't understand the importance of money and how much she actually has
treats everyone to ice cream, especially on hot days
sometimes pays for the restaurant's bills because she insists
Magna always complains about her flexing her wealth
he shuts up when he gets the ice cream though
claims that she has absolutely no interest in cartoons and thinks they are childish
but is the person who sits at an empty table complaining about how dense the characters in Miraculous Ladybug are when it isn't rush hour
accidentally set off the fire alarm once
because she got scared when lighting a match and threw the lit match at Magna
payed for his motorcycle repair as an apology
Charmy Pappitson
owner of the most popular restaurant downtown
customers ask for her autograph and a photo with her sometimes
a very talented chef that everybody appreciates and respects
a cute, smiley person when greeting new customers and always keeps up with regulars
offers the most amazing dishes for a very reasonable price
whenever she has the time, she steps out of the kitchen to chat with the customers about food and check up on the other bulls (just in case)
but when it comes to the kitchen OHOHO
she gets VERY serious about cooking
in dire situations, she’ll stay cooped up in the kitchen and won’t come out until she has made the perfect dish
has several other chefs cooking in there with her, but no one has ever met them before
though the food comes out good so nobody questions it
does not trust any of the black bulls to cook food after Magna set the kitchen on fire
there is a framed photo of her hung up in the restaurant where everyone can see it
whenever she’s serving food, she has to hold back from eating it all
Secre and Noelle are her impulse controllers, if not the food will never make it to the customers’ table
makes desserts as a hobby and gives them to the customers for free sometimes as service
also donates some food to the local church every month, and offers more if she sees Marie
once dropped a freshly baked cupcake and cried about it for 2 hours
forgets to pay the workers sometimes
weekly gatherings with all the Black Bulls happen at Charmy’s restaurant
that time is usually when she tries new recipes and ask for everyone’s opinions
literally a whole party goes down every week at her place
there are noise complaints every time, but she ignores them because Finral is probably already apologizing for them
Parts - 1 | 2 | 3
#black clover#black clover headcanons#magna swing#luck voltia#secre swallowtail#noelle silva#charmy pappitson#i finally finished this omg#not magna getting bullied smh#living for luck being a mess everywhere he goes tho#its 3am rn and i have school tmr im gonna regret this#in the middle of editing all the points shuffled and i had to put them all back in place it was HELL#save finral from the black bulls he's suffered too much
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"i kinda have a crush"
synopsis: Henry has a crush on his roommate's best friend Tom. When he gets sick, he's not sure whether Tom's concern means he feels the same.
Henry doesn't have time for a cold. Especially not now. Finals start next week, and between studying for exams, finishing final projects, and going to class, pretty much all his time is going to be occupied. Today, he woke up with a headache and a sore throat, which he's trying to convince himself is just a product of poor sleep, but deep down he knows is just the beginning of something worse to come.
Now, he's in his room, wrapped in his comforter and highlighting passages in his bio textbook, hearing his roommate Sam and his loud friends watching something equally loud in the living room. It's useless trying to ask them to quiet down - he learned after the sixth or seventh time asking that even though they all seem accommodating, they forget pretty quickly. Normally he'd be able to tune them out, but his steadily worsening headache is making it near impossible.
He gets up and starts pulling on clothes - the walk to the library may be freezing, but at least he'll get some quiet. Leaving his room, he's aware of how pissed off he must look, but he doesn't care enough to feign politeness to Sam and his friends.
He heads to the kitchen and grabs his travel mug - he's going to need coffee if he's going to last at the library. He's just filling it up when he hears a voice behind him.
"Hey! Henry! I didn't know you were home!" It's Tom. He's probably Sam's best friend - at the very least, he's the friend who's over more than anyone else. Henry suppresses a sigh. Tom is the exact kind of guy he doesn't like. Bro-y, athletic, always overly friendly to everyone - it just comes off as phony. It also just so happens that guys like this are always very attractive, and Tom is no exception. He turns around to grab milk from the fridge.
"Hey," he says, trying not to sound as annoyed as he feels.
"If I knew you were here I would've been a little quieter - you have finals coming up too, right?" Tom asks, leaning against the door frame in that way he always does.
"Mmhmm. It's fine. I'm going to the library." Talking to Tom is not helping the throbbing in his head. He starts to add the sugar and milk to his coffee.
"Are you sure? I can ask the guys to quiet down."
"No, it's fine." He snaps the cover onto his coffee and starts toward the door.
"Alright, well have a good day!"
"Thanks, you too." When he closes the front door he sighs, rubbing his eyes. He starts down the stairs. Being around people like that is exhausting on a normal day - Henry's always been quiet. Reserved. With the beginnings of a cold it's almost aggravating.
The frigid air outside makes his throat burn and his eyes water. His nose starts to run too, and he hopes it's just the temperature and not a new symptom. Knowing his luck he's going to be the one annoying person in the library constantly sniffling.
His time at the library is mostly uneventful, apart from going through a pack of travel tissues and getting dirty looks from other students. By the time they're ready to close, he feels significantly worse than he did this morning, but he's finished his biology review and is almost done with a paper for Transformative Design.
The trudge home feels like it takes forever - it's only about a 15 minute walk, but between the cold and feeling like crap it seems neverending. He can hear from the hallway outside the apartment that Sam's friends are still here, which makes him want to tear his hair out.
It's almost midnight when they leave, so it's only about that time he can get to sleep. He has class the next morning at 8, and when he wakes up with his alarm, he knows he's in for a full blown cold. His head still aches, and his sinuses feel sore and swollen. His throat kills too, and he feels shivery, despite the heavy comforter.
He lets himself lie in bed for a while, sniffling and trying to absorb as much warmth as he can from the comforter, before he drags himself up. He immediately pulls on his warmest sweater, even though he's just going to the bathroom. It doesn't help the shivering much, but it's something. He probably looks ridiculous, in just a pair of boxers and his oversized sweater, but he feels so shitty he doesn't really care.
Walking by the couch, he sees Tom asleep, shirtless. His heart flutters - he knew Tom was fit but it was something else to see it. The butterflies are almost annoying. There a million guys on campus, why does he have to get so worked up over this one?
In the shower, he cranks up the heat and lets the steam ease the aching in his sinuses. He's in there for too long, but the thought of having to actually walk to class in the cold makes him reluctant to get out.
He arrives to class a few minutes late - nose still dripping from the cold. Luckily today is just a lecture, but it's a five hour class, and he didn't have time to make any coffee this morning. He brought another little travel pack of tissues, but he's definitely going to have to ration them.
He's still shivering. It's worse after being out in the cold, and even though it should get better over time, nothing changes. He just sits there, achy and shivering and congested and miserable until 10:30, when the professor calls for a 10 minute break. Thank god. He needs coffee. There's a small shop in the building, so he forces himself up and out of his seat - which leads to a few seconds of particularly bad throbbing in his head - and out into the hall.
He almost groans when he sees who's working. Tom. Of course he's been to this little coffee spot a million times and he knows it's where Tom works, but he didn't think he'd have to see him this morning. Part of him is annoyed - he definitely does not have the energy to deal with him at the moment - but another part is a little embarrassed at how awful he must look. Not that he should care what Tom thinks of him, he reminds himself. Regardless, he walks up the counter, half occupied rubbing at his nose with a tissue.
"Hey," he says, and is surprised how congested he sounds. Tom turns, eyes lighting up.
"Hey!" He dims a little when he takes in his full appearance. "You ok?" Henry sniffles.
"Yeah. Fine. Can I get-"
"Large hot coffee, oat milk and sugar, right?" Henry's taken aback.
"Uh, yeah. You know my order?"
"Of course. It's an easy order." He goes about starting to make the drink. "Hope we didn't keep you up last night. I kept telling Sam to shut the fuck up but he doesn't listen to me."
"It's fine. I'm used to it." He sniffles again.
"You sound like you're coming down with something."
"And you sound like my mom." That makes Tom laugh, and again, Henry feels a stirring in his chest. Tom puts the lid on the drink and hands it to him, and Henry tries to hand him the money. Tom shakes his head.
"That's ok - on the house." That draws a little smile out of Henry. Tom smiles back, and for a minute he forgets how shitty he feels. "I hope you feel better."
"Thanks."
He heads back to class and sits down, taking a sip of the coffee. It tastes great, as always when Tom makes it, and the warmth helps to ease the chills at least somewhat. The rest of the lecture is spent half paying attention, and half worrying his sniffling and nose blowing is annoying. When it's finally over, he wants nothing more than to just go home and take a nap, but he has a problem set for calculus due tomorrow that he hasn't even started. So, reluctantly, he makes the trek to the library. He's able to work for most of the day uninterrupted - he's not very hungry, which maybe should be concerning but is convenient nonetheless.
By the time he's done, it's already dark out, and the walk home is brutal. The wind is whipping, and his scarf and hat aren't doing much to keep the cold out. His nose is running like a faucet and the cough he developed over the course of the day drags the cold air even further into his lungs. The coughs hurt, like they come from somewhere deep in his chest, and by the time he gets home his throat is destroyed.
When he gets home, he's glad to see Sam isn't making a racket for once. Still, he knows he's in for a restless night anyway. He puts a can of soup on the stove to heat up while he changes into sweatpants and a hoodie. His reflection in the mirror is definitely a sight - he's flushed from the cold, his hair a mess, and his eyes red rimmed.
He knows he should really fit in some more studying before he calls it a night, but after he picks at his soup and does the dishes, he's ready to fall over, so he just curls up in bed, coughing and shivery, and goes to sleep.
He wakes up a few times in the night coughing, and the soreness in his throat makes his eyes water. He's barely able to drag himself out of bed the next morning. His shivers have become more like shakes, and his cough feels like it never stops. He got a decent amount of sleep, but he still feels totally exhausted - even his muscles are sore.
His classes are a blur - he's too preoccupied with feeling awful to focus, and by the time he's done at 6, all he wants to do is go home and sleep until tomorrow morning. But, he knows he has to get at least one assignment done. After tomorrow, he'll have the whole weekend to relax. Not totally, but still.
Just the assignment tonight, classes tomorrow, then he can finally get some rest. The library probably isn't a good choice - his cough is too distracting, and he knows the walk home later will be torture. So instead, he goes back to the apartment. The cold air always exacerbates the cough, so the whole way home he's hacking, his nose running like a faucet. His ribs have started to hurt from all the coughing.
He almost wants to cry when he gets home and hears the sound of Sam and his friends in the living room. Why tonight of all nights? He trudges into his bedroom and changes - he's started to feel warm, which is a relief after feeling so cold all the time, but now it's becoming a both too warm and too cold feeling, so he tugs on his sweater and a fresh pair of boxers.
He starts to work on the physics problem set - there are only three problems total, but each of them usually take an hour at least, and that's when he's not feeling like death. He works for a while, but it's only when he starts to feel lightheaded he realizes he hasn't eaten yet today.
So, he heads into the kitchen and rummages around for a can of chicken noodle. He finds it, but he's too weak and shaky to work the can open right. He tries for a good three minutes before he feels a lump form in his throat.
"Hey, do you want some help with that?" He turns to see Tom standing in the doorway. Self consciously, he sniffles and clears his throat.
"Uh, y-yeah, that would be great." Tom smiles softly and walks over, making quick work of the can. Henry expects him to just go back into the living room, but he grabs the pot from the cabinet and turns on the stove.
"You've got quite a cough there." Henry feels himself blush. They all must be able to hear him from his room.
“Sorry, I-”
“Hey, no, no don’t be sorry. We make enough noise, you’re allowed to be sick.” He pours the soup into the pot and starts to grab spices from the shelf.
“I’m not sick.” Henry isn’t sure why he’s being so defensive, but Tom doesn’t challenge him, just smirks.
“Well whatever it is, it sounds brutal.” He shakes a few of the spices into the soup, stirring slowly.
“I’m ok. Really.” There’s a bit of an awkward silence before someone calls Tom from the other room. He looks a little dismayed, but puts on a smile.
“Feel better, ok?” He rests his arm on Henry’s upper arm, giving him a soft smile, before heading back into the living room. And there’s that fluttering in his chest again.
On his way back to his room, he catches a bit of a conversation.
“I think we should go out.” That’s Tom’s voice.
“Nah dude, it’s freezing.” That’s Sam.
“C’mon, let’s go. It’ll be fine.”
“Alright, whatever.”
Henry smiles to himself. Maybe it’s reaching to think Tom did that specifically for him, but part of him really hopes he did.
The rest of the night is blissfully quiet, apart from his incessant cough. By the time he’s finished with the last problem, it’s midnight, and the world is swimming. He’s never been happier to lie down. But, it’s short lived. Despite being exhausted, his cough and what he suspects is a fever are making it all but impossible to sleep. He drifts in and out of half-sleep, sometimes too hot, sometimes too cold. Luckily his class isn’t until the afternoon, but he spends the whole morning much like the night before. When he finally gets up, he feels truly ready to fall over. His headache is horrendous, throbbing and pounding at the slightest provocation. His sinuses are still swollen, along with his poor throat that makes him wince with every swallow. The cough is the same if not a little worse, except now it sends cramping pain through his ribs.
On the walk to class, he just keeps repeating the same idea in his head. Just three hours, then you can rest. The class is truly a blur, but the walk home is too unpleasant to tune out. Once again, the freezing temperature isn’t any help, and forcing his aching body to walk through the snow gets harder with every step.
He turns the corner for the front door of his building, and a wave of relief washes over him. But, he’s confused when he sees someone standing near the buzzer. He’s even more confused when he realizes it’s Tom.
“Hey, uh, Sam isn’t here. He’s gone for the weekend.” He says, embarrassed at how thready and weak his voice sounds. Tom turns, looking confused.
“Why are you out here? It’s freezing.” He says, and Henry isn’t sure whether it’s the fever that’s keeping him from putting the dots together or this just doesn’t make sense.
“Sam isn’t upstairs,” he repeats, and Tom sighs gently.
“I’m not here to see Sam.” It still isn’t clicking. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”
“Ok…” He unlocks the door and clumsily shakes the snow off his boots before getting into the elevator. Tom follows, and Henry figures someone else must be in the building that Tom wants to see, but Tom follows him right to the door. Henry sighs and rubs his eyes. “Tom, what do you want?”
For the first time, it looks like Tom might actually be nervous.
“I came to check up on you.” Henry suddenly feels a strange bundle of emotions unfurl in his stomach.
“Oh,” is all he can manage to get out. Tom bites his lip.
“Is that ok?”
“Yeah! Yeah, it’s fine, uh…” He takes a deep breath, but breaks into a fit of coughs before he can speak. He feels a steady hand on his back. After he’s done with the fit the world swims, and there’s a hand on his shoulder.
“Let’s go inside so you can sit down, ok?” Henry just nods, and after a few moments of struggling to fit the key into the lock, Tom does it for him. Immediately, he strips off his scarf and coat and practically collapses onto the couch, pulling off his boots. He leans back into the cushions, closing his eyes.
“Fuck…” he breathes, and he hears Tom laugh quietly. When he opens his eyes, he sees Tom sitting in front of him on the coffee table, still looking nervous. “Why would you wanna check on me?”
“Well you didn’t seem so good last night, and I wanted to make sure you were ok. Even though you hate my guts,” he says with a smile. He starts to rummage through his backpack, and pulls out a bottle of tylenol and a thermometer, as well as a quart container of soup.
“I don’t hate your guts,” Henry says quietly, and Tom gives him another smile.
“Well that’s good to hear.” He leans forward and starts to move his palm toward his forehead, but hesitates. “Is this ok?” Henry nods, and sighs when he feels the cool palm on his overheated skin. He moves his hand to his cheek. “Jesus, you’re really burning up.”
He lets out another volley of coughs, and Tom rubs his back again. It feels nice, but it doesn’t make the confusion go away. For now though, he’s happy to just be looked after.
“Here.” Tom slips the thermometer under his tongue, brushing some of his hair away from his face. When it beeps, he takes it out. “102. Not so bad.” Henry has a feeling he’s saying that more for his benefit than his own. “You want me to grab you some more comfortable clothes?” Henry just nods, and Tom smiles in return. “Alright.”
He gets up and walks into the bedroom, leaving Henry alone on the couch, finally giving him a moment to process all of this. Why on earth would Tom care about him? They’re not really friends, are they? And Tom was straight, wasn’t he? And even if he wasn’t, there’s no way he’d actually like Henry of all people. And did Henry even like him? Sure, he’s sweet and funny and impossibly hot, but he’s friends with Sam. And he’s on the soccer team. And he’s so outgoing and friendly all the time, wouldn’t that get annoying?
He almost doesn’t notice when Tom gets back.
“Here you go. You want me to go in the kitchen while you change?” He hands him the clothes, and Henry bites his lip.
“If you want to.” Is that a weird answer? Tom smirks.
“I’m fine if you’re fine.”
Henry starts to take off his shirt, but he’s so shaky and uncoordinated, Tom has to help him, which probably killed any romance the situation offered, he thinks. The clean fabric feels nice against his feverish skin. The pants go the same way, and he didn’t realize how uncomfortable he was until now.
“Here, lean your head back,” Tom says, and he does. Tom presses a cool, damp cloth to his forehead, and he sighs softly. “That feels good?” He nods. There’s a few moments of silence while he just relaxes into the feeling. Then, he sits up straight.
“Why are you doing all this?” Tom looks nervous again.
“You’re my...friend. And I care about you,” he says, and Henry feels his heart sink a little.
“Oh. Ok.” He must sound disappointed, because Tom smiles.
“Hoping for a different answer?” Henry shrugs, and Tom rubs his jaw.
“I mean, it’s a little embarrassing but I used to...have a crush on you. But I think you made it kind of clear you weren’t interested.” Henry can’t hide his confusion.
“I made it clear?” He’s genuinely not sure what Tom is talking about. Sure, he’s never out right flirted with him, but he always thought he was straight anyway.
“Just...one word answers to everything, always seeming like you had somewhere else to be - it’s fine. I don’t know why I even brought it up. You want some soup?” Henry just nods, and Tom smiles. “Ok, sounds good.”
He heads into the kitchen, and Henry’s mind runs a mile a minute. There’s no way he’s telling the truth right? But why would he lie? He comes back through the doorway and leans against the frame.
“It’s on the stove, just have to wait a few minutes. You feeling ok?”
“Yeah, uh...I wanna tell you something.” Henry doesn’t know how he can make leaning against a doorframe look so good.
“Shoot.”
“I kinda had a crush on you too. Or...have.” He can feel himself blushing. Tom laughs.
“You have a really funny way of showing it.” He’s beaming, and it makes Henry smile too.
“Well it’s not my fault you’re so annoying,” he says, and Tom walks back over to the coffee table and sits down. Tom’s hand rests on his forehead, then makes its way down to his cheek. It feels so steady. Stable.
“I’m not the one that got themself sick with pneumonia because I wouldn’t miss a class, am I?” Without thinking, Henry wraps his arms around him as tight as he can - which isn’t very tight, but still. He buries his face in the crook of his neck and takes a deep breath. Tom rubs his back gently.
“Thank you, for doing all this,” he whispers, and Tom squeezes him a little bit tighter.
“Anytime.”
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More Than Okay
Natasha Romanoff x Teen!Reader
Word count: 1.8K
Requested by anons:
- Can I request a Nat x kid!reader where the kid was in foster care and She just recently went to live with Natasha. And it’s taking her a while to warm up but eventually starts calling Nat, mom? Thank you.
- ooh can I request a nat x (adopted)daughter reader where the reader is the kid of a couple that was killed off by a villain because of their powers. avengers and reader don’t know she has powers mostly because they’ve never shown. they finally find out when said villain comes back for reader by attacking avengers and her powers burst out of her unexpectedly and she saves them all?? thinking something of a mix between Wanda’s and Thor’s powers. thank you, love your writing so much!!
- Nat's daughter telling her she doesn't wanna be a shield agent/superhero.
Your parents didn’t work for the avengers but they were avenger-adjacent. They worked with them on multiple occasions. Your parents had powers and they fought to keep the city safe as best they could. They just hid their identities and stayed out of the public eye as much as possible while doing it. They had a child after all, and their main priority was keeping you safe. Unfortunately no secret ever stays hidden forever.
You remember that night vividly. You had woken up in the middle of the night, your throat was so dry that it was hard to breathe. You quietly made your way downstairs to the kitchen, not wanting to wake your parents, but what you saw still haunts you to this day. There were dozens of men in masks fighting with your parents. The walls were broken and crumbling around you, you feared the entire house would collapse soon.
“Y/n, run!” Your father screamed. You hesitated for a split second, wanting to stay to help but you knew there was nothing you could do. They were the ones with powers and they were clearly losing. If their last wish was to keep you safe you’d grant them that, no matter how much you’d rather stay with them and share their fate.
You ran, forgoing about the door and slipping through a crack in the wall. You looked over your shoulder, relieved to see that nobody was following you. Instead you saw a sword pierce your mother’s chest. To this day you could still hear her cries of pain, but she didn’t look scared. She had simply nodded to you, a clear side she wanted you to keep going. So you did, until you got to the one place you knew was safe.
xxxxx
When you arrived at the avengers compound hours later you were exhausted and you knew you looked awful. The sun was starting to rise, showing the tear tracks cutting through the blood and dirt from various falls, your still bare feet cut and bruised, and your pajamas torn in various places. Steve was the first to see you, as he was up first for an early run. He didn’t say anything, simply brought you inside and led you to the common room. He walked off as you sat on the couch, glancing around the room you’d only seen a handful of times when visiting with your parents. You felt tears well up in your eyes again at the thought of them. You stared down at your hands in your lap, not wanting to see the room full of memories.
When Steve returns he has a first aid kit and Natasha in tow. She knows you the best out of any of the avengers, having been close with your parents.
“Hey, do you wanna talk about what happened?” Natasha's voice is soft and comforting which gives you the courage to look up, as soon as she sees the tears she knows whatever happened was nothing good. You shake your head and she pulls you into her arms. “That’s alright. We don’t have to talk right now. Is it okay if Steve and I clean you up? You’ve got some pretty nasty cuts,” she waits for your nod before motioning for Steve to pass her the first aid kit.
xxxxx
That had been over a year ago and things were still rocky. Tony has given you a room in the compound and that’s where you spent most of your time. While all the avengers cared for you, and you for them, you rarely opened up to them. The events that happened were the worst memories you had, and you didn’t want to share the most painful parts of your life with people who were practically strangers. You’d send a small smile in Peter’s direction at school and sit in on movie nights, but heart to hearts were unheard of amongst the majority of the team. You were content to be the quiet girl nobody truly knew. Well nobody aside from Natasha. You had a few conversations with her and you’ve unpacked the whole event with your therapist, but nobody else knows the details of what happened that night, and you planned to keep it that way.
“Hey y/n, wanna go shopping with us?” Clint asks you as you walk through the kitchen after school.
“No thank you,” your response is quiet and he nods, having expected as much. He always makes an effort though.
“Alright, have a good afternoon.” With that he leaves the kitchen and you head towards the living room. Bruce and Tony are on a mission and Steve always joins Clint to go grocery shopping, it’s the only way to make sure we have more than junk food. That only leaves you and Natasha in the compound so you don’t feel the need to hide.
You sit on the floor by the coffee table, pulling out your homework with a sigh. You’re debating if you want to get your chemistry over with or get some work done on your creative writing story when you hear Natasha entering the room.
“How was school?” Her voice comforts you. It’s calming. Drastically different from the bickering and teasing the boys normally throw around.
“It was fine,” you say simply, turning around to face her as she sits on the couch behind you. Anyone else would’ve taken your short response as a sign that you didn’t want to be talking to them, that’s probably why Natasha was the only one you talked to. While Steve was technically your legal guardian you only had brief interactions with him. They never told you for sure, but you’re pretty sure the only reason it wasn’t Natasha was because she’s in America on sketchy terms and some of her missions prior to her days as an avenger could probably be classified as treason. It was best to keep her out of the mandatory background check that came with fostering a kid. You didn’t need anybody else digging into her past.
“Still dreading that chemistry homework I see,” you follow her gaze to where your textbook is pushed away and you laugh a bit.
“It’s so hard. And I don’t need it anyways! I want to be an English teacher. I don’t need to know chemistry,” you tell her and it’s her turn to laugh and place an arm around your shoulder as you flop on the couch next to her.
“You’re right, you don’t need it to teach English. But you do need it to graduate high school so you have to do it eventually. If you need help Tony will be home tomorrow, and I think Peter is coming over tonight to do some training. He’d be more than happy to help and it’d be good for you to talk to him. Remember what Dr. Tan said-“
“I need to have more interactions with people my own age. I know,” you cut her off, “But how am I even supposed to start that conversation? ‘Hi I’m Y/n- oh you already know that?-oh because I’m Stingray and Rogue’s daughter and their identities got leaked after their murder, right. Yeah I’m super sad they died too.’ Sounds like a delightful conversation to have.”
“I know it’s hard y/n, but Peter is a good place to start. He’s plenty different too and he’s not going to judge you for it,” Natasha’s argument makes sense but before you can respond you hear a crash from the kitchen and you’re grateful for the distraction.
“Is Clint back already?” You ask, pulling away from Natasha and walking towards the kitchen. You freeze in the doorway, seeing the people that have haunted your nightmares for over a year now.
“Y/n? Is everything okay?” Natasha calls but before she gets to you the closest figure charges. You duck out of the way and Natasha takes him out. She starts fighting the men but she’s beyond outnumbered. You’re frantically looking around for somebody to help, but it’s just the two of you. When you look back you see a man charging her with a sword, just like last year.
“Mom, look out!” you scream as you flail your arm in the attacker’s direction. Before Natasha can try to dodge him he’s thrown back and he’s seizing. You glance at your hands seeing a mist sparking with electricity surrounding your fingers. You don’t have time to overthink it as all the intruders’ attention turns to you. You zero in on the closest one and send a pulse of electricity in his direction. You repeat the process until they’re all on the floor. At that moment shield agents and the rest of the team come flooding in, FRIDAY having notified them of the break in.
“Holy shit,” Clint says and you look between him and your hands, eyes wide in fear.
“Did you do that?” Steve asks and you swallow hard before nodding. “You could be a good addition to the team.”
“You really could. Pulse you’re a legacy, what with your parents and everything,” an agent says and your breathing starts to speed up. Everything's happening so fast. There’s too much and you’re starting to spiral. You’re about to run when Natasha steps in front of you.
“Let’s go somewhere a bit more quiet, okay?” she offers and you nod, desperate for an escape. You both walk in silence until you’re in your room and sitting next to each other on the bed. “Did you know you could do that?”
“No! I swear I didn’t. I would’ve told you, I promise I-”
“Hey,” Natasha cuts off your rambling, placing a calming hand on your shoulder. “I’m not mad. I just want us to get on the same page. We need to figure out what this means and start training you.”
“I don’t want to be an agent,” you say bluntly. “I’m sorry. I know I should want to help people. It's the right thing to do, it’s what my parents would want me to do but I just can’t”
“That’s fine. You don't owe anyone anything and if you don’t want to use your powers then that’s okay. We do need to do some training though. Just to make sure you’re in control of them, but we don’t have to tell anyone outside of the team if you don’t want to,” Natasha promises and you nod, throwing yourself into her arms as you sigh in relief.
“Thank you,” you whisper and you feel her sigh this time.
“There’s one more thing. You called me mom in there. I know that was all probably really mentally draining and I have no idea what kind of memories it triggered. I know it was an accident but-” it’s your turn to cut her off.
“It wasn’t an accident. I know you’re not legally my mom, but you’re the one who stepped up. I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened to me if you weren’t there. I get it if it’s not okay with you, but I think of you as my mom,” you explain, wringing your hands as you wait for her response.
“It’s more than okay with me,” Natasha tells you, placing a hand over yours.
Tag List: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @im-salt-but-not-salty @5aftermidnight @riotmaximoff
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x daughter!reader#natasha romanoff x kid!reader#natasha romanoff x te#Natasha Romanova#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff imagine#Black Widow#black widow x reader#black widow x kid!reader#natasha romanoff x teen!reader#black widow x teen!reader#Avengers#Avenger#avengers kid fic#avengers x teen!reader#marvel#Marvel AU#marvel fic#tw death#tw parents#tw parent death#tw parents death#more than okay
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Life will always find a way
Dick Grayson x Y/N Roth
A/N: I haven’t written something like this in a long time and I just started watching Titans on Netflix (been a year since then) and been reading a bunch of fics and I kind of had this one stuck in my head. So tell me what you think and enjoy.
I forgot this even existed and was just sitting in my drafts so I guess I am posting this now
-Flashback-
It was one of those rare rainy days in San Francisco, you were just closing the small café you were working at. It was a busy day and the shop closed a little later than usual, meaning it was already beginning to get dark outside.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, you pulled the hood over your head trying to protect yourself from the weather. Today was just a day that couldn’t get any worse you thought to yourself.
It started with an alarm that didn’t go off, making you late for the first lecture of the day, the day at USF seemingly lasting forever and instead of heading home, you still needed to work. Life was dull and the universe was testing you, first your best friend passed away, then essays and other projects piling up and the excessive amount of work hours, happiness just wasn’t an option at the moment.
And now this, the rain, the darkness and the constant feeling of being followed.
Picking up your speed in hopes of getting home faster you took a shortcut not really thinking of the consequences but being reminded in a second, as somebody slammed you into a wall from behind, shocking you for a moment before regaining your composure and getting ready to defend yourself.
When suddenly a figure appeared behind your nightly attacker and ripped him off of you and started beating the crap out of him.
Your nightly saviour appeared to be some kind of masked vigilante , at least that’s what you guessed from the costume adorning a cape and the mask covering his eyes. Watching the fight scene unfold before you, the vigilante overpowering your attacker with ease, resulting with the stranger running away, yelling profanities.
The vigilante focussed his attention onto you, looking you up and down and you doing the same, noticing the wet mop of brunette hair framing his face and the chocolate brown eyes peaking from behind the mask., as well as the well-toned body adorned by the costume.
“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” he asked sincerely.
“I’m alright, maybe a bruise or two but nothing I can’t handle. Thank you by the way”
“Robin” he interrupted
“Well, thank you, Robin. But it was nothing I couldn’t handle. I’m sure you have more pressing matters at hand so why don’t you take care of these and let me take care of myself.” You stated rather annoyed, not only annoyed by him but this whole day.
“Oh, well, okay… then I guess I will just leave you be” Robin stated quite unsure and disappeared within a moment.
Sure, you felt kind of bad about your behaviour, but you just wanted to get home, get cosy and cry yourself to sleep, the usual routine since your best friend passed away.
The next day promised to be a better one, with the alarm actually going of, the sun peaking from behind the clouds and you being on time for the lectures that day with the prospect of not having to work today and finally getting started on some essays.
Making your way to your favourite coffee shop, ordering a cappuccino and sitting down in a quiet corner, you unpacked your notebook and started typing, tuning out the world around you, therefore not noticing that somebody joined you at your table.
Only noticing your company after a small cough, looking up a young man around your age sat in front of you, with deep chocolate brown eyes, well styled brunette hair and a smile to match his handsome face.
“Can I help you?” you ask the mysterious stranger
“Hi” he answers with a charming smile “I just noticed you sitting by yourself and I don’t know… Obviously you are doing work or something, but I don’t know… there is something about that I just thought I really want to get to know the beautiful woman behind the notebook”
Normally you would turn down such advances, but today, you were feeling a little bit better about yourself than the last weeks and he wasn’t that bad looking, charming on top of that. And maybe he was just what you needed to distract you from the grieving and the stress.
“Well, thank you for the compliment, you are not so bad looking yourself.” You tried to flirt “My name’s Y/N, by the way.”
“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady” he charmed “It’s very nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Dick Grayson”
“Finally, a name and a full face to the alias. I didn’t think I was so intriguing that a vigilante had to get to know me, but I am flattered, Robin” I whispered making sure nobody heard what I was telling him.
Dick looked shocked and started stammering, before asking “What are you talking about? You are making no sense.”
“Look, I am not going to tell anyone, but I’m quite good with remembering faces and I got a good look at yours and the only difference between yours and Robins is the fact that you are not having a black mask over your eyes. Same hair, same eyes, same smile, same face structure. Just face it, I figured it out and that pretty fast.”
Thus, began a fast forming friendship which evolved into friends with benefits really quick and after some time even into lovers pursuing a serious relationship, finding an abrupt end with no explanation, just a last night filled with love and a morning after with an empty bed and a note saying
Goodbyes are never easy, but this is one of the hardest. I knew I couldn’t tell you face to face and I know it’s cowardly to tell you this way, but I just know that you would’ve somehow changed my mind. By the time you’ve read this, I will already be on my way out of this city on the way towards a new destination. I am really sorry. I love you and I’ll miss you and hope you somehow understand.
- Dick
-Flashback end-
“And you tell me all of this now, Rachel?! I knew I should’ve just taken with me as soon as Mom died. I can’t believe I let you do all this to find your real parents just because I thought going with a detective would be a good idea. You could’ve gotten yourself killed, I could’ve somehow helped you. And I am furious that you lied to me, that everything was fine and just now you’re telling me the whole truth. I don’t know what to say Rachel…” you told your sister agitated over the phone.
“Y/N… I was fine and I am fine. I made new friends and they protected me just fine. And I didn’t tell you because I knew you would’ve been there in a second to protect me but you also have a child to think about and I rather know you and Ricky are safe…”
“And I rather know that you are safe, Rachel. I would’ve figured something out.” You interrupted your little sister
“I know, I know… but there is nothing we can do about that now. Everything is fine. Well, anyway… What I originally wanted to tell you was that we are actually on the way to San Francisco. Apparently, there is some safe house where the Titans used to stay and we get to live at. So, I finally get to see my big sister and my cute little nephew” Rachel told you excitedly
“I am so happy to finally see you again and so is Ricky. But are you sure you don’t want to move in with us?” you were still being vary of Rachel living with a bunch of guys
“Yes, I am sure, it’s safest for me and also for you two, I don’t want to get you in danger because of me. I have done that a lot these past few weeks and I really don’t want to risk it. She assured you
“Okay, I understand. Even though we both know that I could handle it.” You told her with a smile “Come visit us as soon as possible. We miss you”
After your phone call with Rachel you went into your 3-year-old sons’ room to tell him, that his aunt would come visit soon. Ricky sat contently in the middle of the room surrounded by a bunch of toys playing with his favourite car. You admired your little angel with his brunette locks and chocolate brown eyes, reminding you so much of his father. Ricky looked so much like him, but he still got your gorgeous smile and good-natured spirit.
#dc titans#titans imagine#dick grayson#dick grayson imagine#titans imagines#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x you#dick grayson x y/n
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Surprise
Characters: Miguel Galindo x black!reader
Summary: Miguel gives his wife a day of surprise. Based on this video and tweet.
Warnings: Smut
A/N: Sorry if the smut sucks, I rushed through it lol.
Miguel leaned against the entryway of the bathroom, watching you carefully apply your mascara. His eyes roamed down to the swell of your breasts. You hadn’t put on your blouse yet because of you not wanting to get makeup on it.
“You’re staring,” you called out your husband when you finally became aware of his heated gaze. “What? Is it a crime to look at my wife?”
“Noooo, but it is a bad idea when both you and I have work to go to.” You took a break from doing your makeup and that’s when you realized that Miguel wasn’t dressed in his usual garb. He had on a simple black tee and jeans, an understated look but he still oozed power. “Why aren’t you dressed?”
Miguel ignored your question and leaned his hip against the counter. “Let’s go shopping, mi amor.”
“Shopping? We can’t go shopping. We both have to work.” What the hell was Miguel thinking? You two did not have the time for that. “What if I told you I cancelled all my meetings today and told your boss you couldn’t come in today?”
That sounded too good to be true. “You’re lying,” you accused in disbelief. “Nope, we’re gonna go to Home Goods. Then we’re gonna go to Target. Sounds good so far?” The mention of Target made you stop what you’re doing and turn to your husband.
“Then we’re gonna get pedicures after.”
“What?” You gasped in shock. It’s been forever since you and Miguel got pedicures together. “Yeah, let’s go get pedicures. Yeah?” After that you closed your mascara, Miguel had your full attention now. “Oh! Mascara shut.” Miguel joked. “And then we’ll go to brunch. You want brunch?”
“Mimosas?” You whispered, already dreaming of the citrusy bubbles on your tongue. “Mmhmm. Order from the whole menu. Chocolate chip pancakes with a river of syrup. Bacon, hash browns.”
“Chicken tendies?” Miguel laughed at your name for chicken strips, you refused to call them by their proper name. “Yes, and chicken tendies.” As Miguel continued to name various foods, your breath got heavier in anticipation.
“And then?” You asked. “Whatever you want to do. Wanna go to Chick-Fil-A? Cookies and cream milkshake?”
“COOKIES AND CREAM MILKSHAKE!?”
“Yeah!” Miguel couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He loved how excited you were and that he was the one making it happen. “So, you wanna go?” It really wasn’t a question, but he just knew your answer would radiate with enthusiasm. “For real? Miguel, you’re not playing?”
Miguel grabbed you by the hips and pulled you towards him. “No, I’m not.” You squealed and jumped in his arms before running to change. “But there is one condition.” He stopped you in your tracks. “What?”
“You have to wear this.” Miguel pulled out a maxi sundress of your favorite color. This man certainly had style. Running you snatched the dress out his hands and began changing. You were too enamored with the dress that you barely heard Miguel tell you to meet him in the driveway when you were done.
As soon as he saw you, Miguel thought a day in the house didn’t sound bad at all, but he had to shove those thoughts away. He had plans for his queen.
“Where’s Nestor?” You looked around for him, Marcus, and some of the others, but none were to be found. “Gave them the day off. It’ll just be you and me.”
It wasn’t Christmas. Both of yours and Miguel’s birthdays had already passed. Your anniversary wasn’t until a couple of more months. “What are you up to?” You eyed Miguel suspiciously. “Nothing. Now get in the car.”
Multiple times during the car ride Miguel thought of pulling over. In the corner of his eye, he would catch you rubbing your thighs together to alleviate some pressure. He listened to how you thought it was so sexy to see a man maneuver a car, but he didn’t think you would get this turned on. Now he would have to make more of an effort to drive around.
His day with you was a blast. At Home Goods he watched your head switch from Pinterest to the different aisles, trying to find the perfect items to complete your diy projects. Target was a bit more dangerous. You went down every aisle and almost bought out the whole store. “We don’t even need this!” Miguel would say whenever you would add whatever unnecessary item to the cart. It didn’t matter though, he still let you get it.
The nail salon was a ball. The nail technicians thought it was so cute that you and Miguel were getting pedicures together. Along with the pedicure you got a manicure. Miguel even picked the shape and color. “I can’t wait to see those wrapped around my dick,” he whispered, enjoying you squirm as the nail tech painted your nails.
Brunch a whole new you came out. This specific restaurant was your favorite because they played the music you loved and had bottomless mimosas. Those two were a bad combination for Miguel’s hard dick, because those lustful glances from you were no accident. And the moans you made when you ate those damn chicken tendies mixed with a little bit of syrup had him sitting uncomfortably for the longest. But then every so often, in between bites you would look to Miguel, smile brightly, and tell him thank you. And just like that he was gushing all over you, ready to give you the moon and the stars.
Miguel opted to get the milkshakes at the drive-thru, but you didn’t mind, you had other plans in mind. However, Miguel surprised you when he went in the other direction of home. “Babe, where are we going?” Miguel grabbed your hand and rested his lips on it. “To your last surprise.” He said, not offering any more information.
About 45 minutes outside of town, an oddly familiar lake house came into view. “Miguel, what is this?” Your husband parked the car and ran to let you out. “This is your house by the lake, not too far from the city because you’ be damned if some Jason Vorhees comes out to kill you and you couldn’t get immediate help. There’s the front porch where you can sit and drink your morning coffee while you watch the sunrise. In the back, you have the deck complete with picnic tables and a master grill, where you can use and abuse your brother’s grilling skills while everyone else is talking, playing games, and dancing. Back here you can have your glass of wine and watch the sunset.” He wrapped his arms around you and jutted his chin to the second story of the home. “In the master bedroom is a window seat where you can get scared from the new horror book you’re reading while drinking your second cup of coffee. And most importantly there’s the dock by the lake, so you can go fishing because you refuse to get on a boat and become a Lake Placid victim.”
Verbatim. Word for word, Miguel described the perfect dream lake house you told him about years ago. It was dream that your dad had at first. He wanted to give his family a getaway spot that was yours to call your own. As your father daughter bonding time, you would search for the perfect candidate but could never find one. Then unfortunately, he passed before he could make that dream come true. In the little spare time you had, you resumed your search in honor of your father, but it was nothing but dead ends.
Tears were running down your face. You couldn’t stop them if you wanted to. “Mi amor, you don’t like it?” Miguel’s concern was growing. He couldn’t decipher if those were happy tears or sad tears. “No, Miguel I love it! I just don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
Miguel pulled you into a tighter hug. “Oh honey, I’m the one who doesn’t know how I managed to get and keep you.” He grabbed ahold of your chin, tilting it up so you couldn’t avoid his eyes. “I haven’t been the best husband.”
“Miguel no.” How in the world could he think that? He pressed a finger against your lips. “Shh, let me finish. You barely see me anymore. We literally only say good morning and good night to each other. I’ve been too busy with the rebels and Potter. Plus, there’s the original work I already have. You taken over the development project when you have your own work to do. And you take time out of your day to take my mother to and from her appointments.” You tried to interrupt him, to tell him that it was no big deal, but he stopped you. “Ahh, I’m not finished. You do all this, go through all this trouble and not once have I heard you complain. This isn’t even half of what you deserve. So, no more talk about how you don’t deserve any of this. Entiendes?”
It was a troubling time. Half of the time you didn’t know where you found the energy to get out of bed, but you did. You had to. This was how you keep your family together. “Si.” You brought Miguel’s face closer to yours. There was the faint taste of mimosas still on his tongue. Reluctantly, Miguel pulled away, holding onto your bottom lip til the last possible second. “There are other husbandly duties that I have been neglecting.”
“Is there now?” A crooked smile graced your face. “Mmhmm,” Miguel scooped you up bridal style. “Yeah. I think we should christen the house.” He whispered conspiratorially like you weren’t alone. “I say hell yeah!”
Miguel ran into the house, running up the stairs, leaving a trail of your giggles. Tomorrow you would get the chance to explore more.
Once in the room, Miguel dropped you on the bed, causing you to bounce a little. He shed yours and his clothes in a hurry. To his surprise you weren’t any underwear. “Someone was eager, huh?”
“I had plans to screw you in the back of the car after mimosas.” Miguel took off your bra and tugged a nipple into his mouth. “Good girl.”
While Miguel’s attention was on your nipples yours were on getting his boxers off. His dick sprang free and you wrapped your hand around it. Miguel relished in the feeling of your soft hand around him while he left kisses from your shoulder to your ear. “What are you doing?” He groaned into your ear, slipping in between the two of you, grabbing your wrist to stop your movement. “I thought you wanted to see my nails around your dick?” You whimpered, squirming against him.
“I do, but right now is about you. Do me a favor and suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me.” He tapped your fingers against your lips, and you slipped them in, mimicking the motions you wanted to desperately do to his dick. Satisfied with how wet they were, Miguel stuck his fingers in your welcoming hole. “Its so wet and warm, preciosa. I think I can fit another finger in there, don’t you?”
“Mmhmm, daddy.” Miguel added a third finger, bringing a delicious sting. “God, you’re so tight. I bet you taste even better.” Taking his fingers out despite your reluctance, he sucked on them, making you jealous that it wasn’t your mouth on them.
“Tell me what you want, baby. You want me eat that fat ass pussy or you want this cock?”
“Gimme your cock please.” It was no competition. You needed to feel complete and only Miguel’s dick could do that.
He scooted back some to line himself up. You caught a glimpse of his dick and badly wanted to suck it. It should be a crime that all that dick belongs to you.
Miguel slid his cock along your slit, gathering up some wetness. “Baby stop teasing please!” You whined, scratching against his forearms.
He lifted up your left leg to his hip and slid in, giving you those deep lovemaking strokes. “You take me so well, mi amor. Can you handle more?”
“Yes Miguel. Please give me more!” His slow strokes would leave you right on the verge of coming, but never actually getting you there and at this moment you needed to cum more than anything. “More, daddy! Please!” Tears were prickling your eyes.
With his free hand, Miguel swiped away your tears and began to pound into you. “Pretty girl,” he smoothed back some of your hair, his soft words contrasting his rough fucking. “You look like an angel taking my cock so well. You’re gonna be a good girl and cum over daddy’s cock, hmm?”
You nodded your head when you failed to form any words. “Nah, baby girl I need words. Tell me what you want.”
“I WANT TO CUM ALL OVER YOUR COCK!” Miguel was hitting your spot repeatedly. “Okay, pretty baby, then do it,” he whispered, rubbing your clit.
Your body exploded with your orgasm. You were a quivering mess, but Miguel wasn’t through with you, he kept fucking you.
“Where do you want it?” Miguel asked through clenched teeth. “In my mouth, daddy. I wanna taste you.”
Miguel jumped off of you. “On your knees, baby.” Eagerly you got on the ground with your tongue out, enjoying Miguel stroke his glistening cock. “Oh fuck!” He cried out, throwing his head back in ecstasy as his cum filled your mouth.
When he finished, you jumped at the opportunity to clean his cock. “Shitttt! Just like that baby.”
He pulled your head back and laughed at your amused smile. “With skills like that, I’ll give you anything. What else do you want?” He carried you to the bathroom, filling the tub for a nice bath.
“Just you.” You sighed, leaning back on his chest.
“I can definitely do that and more.” Miguel promised to you and himself.
If you like what you read here’s my taglist and masterlist.
Tags: @starrynite7114 @lilsmilez @blessedboo @marvelmaree @sambucky8 @ljstraightnochaser @my-rosegold-soul @angrythingstarlight @richonne4life @brattyfics @lovebennycolon @thesandbeneathmytoes @woahitslucyylu @sadeyesgf @strawberrywritings @angelreyesgirl @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @spookys-girl @imanerdychubbyqueen @brownsugarcoffy @ifoundmyhappythought @thickemadame
#black!reader#miguel galindo#miguel galindo x reader#miguel galindo x black!reader#miguel galindo fanfic#mayans mc#mayans mc fanfic#mayans#mayans fanfic#frizzlefic#frizzlesfic#danny pino
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So, I’m really late to the party on this one...
Turns out, through all this time that I’ve been putting off my writing, because I was unable to properly envision my OC’s appearances in my head, I never knew about a little website by the name of picrew.me. It has changed the game...
What the hell, right? I just went on TikTok today and saw people posting with the available character creators and I felt like an idiot for two reasons:
Because I’m a writer, not an artist. I’m too impatient to sit for that long to draw out as many characters as I need to for my main original novels or the occasional fan fiction I write to test out new OC’s personalities.
Because I grew up playing “dress-up” games like every other member of my 2000’s baby generation (I’m 20) and I never for a moment thought of trying to find a program that might be able to do my art for me for free (not that I don’t support people going to freelance artists, I intend to seek one out for book covers soon, but I just lack the budget to get portraits done for the number of characters I have).
So, what the hell is wrong with me, right?
I’ve been wasting all of this time struggling with what I couldn’t see and now...? I’m writing more than ever and I’m not confused! It’s a huge weight off my shoulders and I finally intend to share a few of my creations to show off some of the different art styles offered by the selection of character customization programs...
My first example is Persephone from my latest endeavor into writing an X-Men story.
She’s a young mutant who was born into a Jewish family with the power to control and manipulate plant life. However, this ability didn’t develop until she turned ten and ran away from the hand of a violent father and straight into the care of a marooned alien. One we all know and love, Groot who crash landed on Earth (an event that will eventually lead him to Rocket in the years to come, but for now this moment is set before X-Men: Days of Future Past. Before Magneto’s speech is given on tv and life changes for mutants forever).
With the help of her mutation, she’s able to hide Groot’s true identity as an extraterrestrial. Claiming upon her arrival to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters that she made him by accident when her mutant-phobic father raised a bat in hand to kill the "abomination" he'd brought into the world. Not that it was entirely a lie, she could replenish and understand him through her abilities. And we all know how protective our beloved seven foot tall tree monster can be of small, mostly defenseless, screaming creatures.
As for the details of her abilities, they follow thusly:
Her canine teeth are elongated and incredibly strong along with the rest of her chompers as her mutation affects her metabolism and she needs to eat a large amount of heavy protein to maintain her strength, meaning beef, chicken, eggs, fish, etc. She identifies as a carnivore, because eating uncooked veggies can get a little awkward when she can hear the cherry tomatoes in her salad talking. Asking not to be eaten. As a result, she takes classes and puts herself in charge of planning meals/grocery shopping for the team. She’d rather die than eat unseasoned food.
Her hair grows like a weed and resembles the color to boot. Flowing in lengths of green, but it changes with the seasons. Going from lime green in the spring, to emerald in the summer, red, yellow and chestnut in the fall and in the winter...seasonal depression kicks in with a force to turn her flowing tresses black as potting soil. This however can be treated with her depression through the use of stimulants, mood stabilizers and a cubic butt-load of coffee, because just like pine trees, her internal biome loves acidic foods.
Though, because of its composition and advanced growth rate, she keeps her hair teased neatly into locs and can be often found preening herself whenever she’s not grooming every last sprout and bud in the Manor’s greenhouse where she lives with Groot to keep him company. And depending on her mood, her hair can sprout flowers based on whatever she’s feeling. Anger will sprout a crown of thorns, heartbreak grows anemones and intense love could cause whole bushels of forget-me-nots to bloom in their mesmerizing blues and violets.
And who do they bloom for? For the very first time after years of attending Xavier’s school? After being kidnapped by and defeating Apocalypse? Saving Warren/Angel’s life...? Why of course it would be one Mr. Kurt Wagner, fresh out of the circus who would take one look at her green hair with freckled, clay-colored and his blue features would go straight to purple after the fight in realizing that he wasn’t alone. There were other mutants out there in the world who looked different and Percy...? She was nothing short of her namesake. A true Spring goddess who melted the moment he wandered lost into her green house and wasn’t afraid of Groot. Even after the giant tree tossed the boy across the room like a rag doll, thinking he was attempting to sneak up on his little green-thumbed friend...
Needless to say, they would hit it off, despite a few trials given the disapproval of her new best friend, Warren who was still bitter about Kurt accidentally burning his wings during the cage fight. Though, with the new, fluffy white ones that Percy would help him grow with a special herbal brew...? After the X-Men agreed to take him in an hide him from his family...? He really had no right to complain...
And you never know...maybe one day because of them, a new generation of X-Men might come into the world...
I was able to come up with all of this story because of Picrew, so if you’re struggling like I often do, why not give it a try? It’s totally free and even fun if that’s your sorta thing. So, feel free to let me know if any of you want me to show off anymore of my OC’s sometime. I’d be happy to oblige...
#marvel#xmen oc#xmen x reader#X-men#nightcrawler#kurt wagner#charles xavier#apocalypse#magneto#archangel#angel#Warren worthington#fan fiction#my oc’s#oc’s#sharing my OC’s#writing#novel writing#writing novels#dc universe#dc#Groot#picrew#picrew art#this changed my life#my writing#holy shit
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Tis the Damn Season.
A/N: Happy New Years babes!! I’m back with this Ez imagine to wrap up the holiday season. I hope you all had a great holiday break and I wish you guys the happiest, healthiest new year. Stay Safe
Song: Tis the Damn Season- Taylor Swift
No happy endings, sorry :/
_______________________________________________________________
“It’s the kind of cold, fogs up windshield glass
But I felt it when I passed you
There’s an ache in you, put there by the ache in me”
She should’ve known coming back was a bad idea, though it never really hit her until her eyes laid on the damn town sign welcoming those who passed through. Everything inside of her screamed as she passed the familiar town scenery. One that she grew up idolizing but one day ended up cursing at. It was a love hate relationship, she has with Santo Padre.
She grew up here, the memories of her as a young child are often replayed in her mind. They are cherished and kept in good shape, grasping onto the small details, she knows she’ll never feel again. But with the good memories, there’s the ones she keeps hidden. Ones she knows she’ll always remember no matter how much she tries to make herself forget.
He will always be in her mind, he had claimed that spot years back.
It’s been years since she last saw him but when she finally saw him standing outside his dad’s shop. And it doesn’t surprise her that he still looks the same, expect for a couple new tattoos. But he’s still the same kid who used to walk her home every single day after school just to make sure she got there safe. Except she’s not the same girl. She will never be.
But it doesn’t surprise her, that he doesn’t greet her. It’s usually never cold in Santo Padre but she swears she felt the temperature drop by a couple of degrees, when she passes by.
And it was her doing, so she keeps her head down; wondering if she made a mistake.
“ So we could call it even
You can call me “babe” for the weekend
‘Tis the damn season, write this down
I’m staying at my parents’ house”
She doesn’t know whether it was the couple of drinks she had before they arrived at the bar. But the sudden boost of confidence allows her to say hi to his brother, Angel. He was always kind to her and it gives her a chance to finally stand up close to EZ. Finally see the ways he’s grown. And it was a beautiful sight in front of her, one that takes her breath away.
A silent nod given by Ez makes Angel suddenly leave the bar, claiming the pool table was calling his name. And the Ezekiel that she once knew was right before her eyes.
They laughed, they shared stories, ones that made her heart beat faster. Stories that made her face heat up when she catches the way he still stares at her the way he used to.
Ez walks her home after the bar closes up, by this time Angel had already left home. And it takes her a while to agree, but one look at Ez’s brown eyes and she melts right there.
“Can’t believe after all these years I’m still walking you back to your parent’s house.” Ez smiles at her as they walk down the street, in the middle of the night. It's comforting and she welcomes it, even if it’s just for a couple of days while she’s back in town.
And just for once, she feels like nothing has changed between them.
“The holidays linger like bad perfume
You can run, but only so far
I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave”
She groans, as she walks to Felipe Reyes’s carniceria on behalf of her parent’s orders. It had been a couple days back to her childhood home but she soon realized that nothing’s changed between her parents and home. The feelings of being stuck in this small town have once again made themselves known. She suddenly feels like she’s 15, walking to her favorite place after school looking for Ez. It seems like no matter how many years pass by, her parents seem to treat her like she was still in high school. The same reckless teenager who has thrown everything away in order to escape Santo Padre.
The walk there feels like forever even though it’s only a couple minutes in walking distance. But she can’t help but see how much the town she once grew up in changed throughout the years. Only now, it seemed like everyone was in the festive spirit, the bright colors covering every inch of the town. Her eyes followed the people that walked around without a care in the world. How she wished to be one of them.
The last time she was here, she had left everything she once loved behind, She could still see Ez’s face when she had come over to break the news to him.
She was leaving, and she didn’t know if she ever wanted to come back to this awful town that pretty much killed everything inside of it.
But Ez could never understand her urge to leave this town they both grew up in. And because of that she felt smothered by not only her parents, but by the idea of their relationship as well. He wanted to settle down and of course her parents loved the idea of their wild child being tied down to Santo Padre’s golden boy.
As much as she loved him, she was still young and she wanted the chance to explore the world, and she knew he wouldn’t leave his own family behind to go with her.
So she left and she didn’t dare to look back at the man she loved with her entire heart.
Because she knew she wouldn’t leave if she did.
“I won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask me to stay.”
It doesn’t surprise her when she wakes up in a room that’s not her childhood one. The memories of the day before creep up in her mind, and she lets out a soft smile. There weren't any words between them but she felt every emotion he had in the way his hand caressed her body. It was like they were never apart but she also felt like the missing part in her was complete. She could still feel him as she laid there staring at the ceiling.
The house was quiet and she knew that neither Ez or Angel were home. It was probably for the best, considering today was the last day she had before leaving this town again. And she wasn’t sure she would be coming back after this.
Her heart tugged at the thought of leaving Ez again. She hadn’t planned to end up in his bed, she hadn’t planned to see him at all. But just one look at him and she’s suddenly her teenage self. Hopelessly in love.
“Hey, sleepyhead” Ez smiles, as he breaks her away from her daydream. She knew he saw the surprise look on her face, but thankfully he didn’t comment on it. He instead passed the coffee cup in his hand towards her, sitting at the edge of his bed.
His eyes lingering at her face, and she couldn’t make herself meet his. He knew, he knew that she was going to leave him behind once more. And there wasn’t anything he could say or do to make her change her mind.
She was stubborn, god she hated that about herself. But that’s what he loved most about her, she needed things done her way.
“You’re leaving aren’t you.” It was soft but she still heard it.
Her eyes finally meet his, and she swears she can hear both their hearts breaking. But she doesn’t hear that one word that she’s been longing to hear, especially from him. Maybe if he did say it, she could stay.
But it never comes.
“And wonder about the only soul
Who can tell which smiles I’m fakin’
And the heart I know I’m breakin’ is my own
To leave the warmest bed I’ve ever know”
Her parents sent her off with only a hug and safe travel wishes. They don’t even bother asking her to visit soon. It was a lost cause and her father doesn’t hide the disappointment in his face when he closed the front door.
She’s disappointed them a handful of times throughout her life, but it had never occurred to them that she just doesn't want to be stuck in the same town like the rest of them.
She had dreams and to her parents she was just a failure who runs away from the people who love her the most. But what they don’t know is that her heart breaks every time she thinks about the man she’s left behind. The only one who can make her feel like she’s on top of the world. The only one who truly knows her deepest darkest secrets and her dreams.
It was like something came over her and before she knew it she was at Ez’s house. She sits there maybe hoping, she’ll come to her senses and leave without him noticing her car. A soft laugh escapes her mouth when she see Ez leaning against the doorframe, watching her.
“I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye first.” She speaks first as he approaches her car. She silently curses herself when she feels her eyes fill up with tears. She’s usually good at hiding her feelings from others but this time she just couldn’t. This time she doesn’t hide them from him.
His large hands cup her face and for a moment she leans towards its, feeling him one more time. His thumb catches the tears that streams down her face.
She tries to smile at him but he knows her better than that. He instead places his lips on hers, making their last kiss way better than she expected.
“Make me proud.” He leans his forehead against hers, breathing in her scent and closing his eyes.
Ez steps away from her car, giving her a last smile before nodding at her.
She leaves and she hopes he knows that her heart is breaking as she drives away from everything she’s ever known.
This time she does look back because she wants to see his face one more time before she leaves him behind. And she come to terms that he’ll always be in the back of her mind, the future she could’ve had with EZ.
It was always him.
“And the road not taken looks real good now
And it always leads to you and my hometown.”
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Your mess is mine
Sue may only be a math major, but she knows this much about telling a story: it needs to have a beginning, middle, and an end.
If she were to sit down and write one, here is where it would start — Emily laughs and she falls in love. It doesn’t matter the year, the month, or the minute; when Emily laughs, she falls in love. Sue’s a little slow when these things are concerned, love doesn’t come to her as quickly or as easily as it has historically come to Emily. I saw you in the coffee shop and I knew you were the one, she’s fond of telling Sue, usually during fights. It’s highly annoying that Emily thinks it’d work on her. Even more annoying is the fact that it does.
Alright, does she have moments of intense déjà vu sometimes? Like when they’re lying in bed, after one of Austin’s house parties, and Sue curls up into Emily’s soft shoulders, plays with her pretty, pretty hands? Or when she catches Emily conked out in front of her laptop in a corner table at the café on her break and gently wakes her up? Sure. But isn’t that what love is? The same five gestures repeated in infinite ways, creating a well of infinite affection. So if walking the steps with Emily settles deep into her bones without flinching, as if they’ve done this before, she’s convinced that it’s because they’re well and truly perfect together.
(Definitely not because — and this is something that has been occurring to her more and more lately — they were star-crossed lovers in a past life a century ago.)
(That would be crazy.)
(Right?)
*****
Falling in love aside, Emily can be really, infuriatingly, secretive about the worst of things. Sometimes it is charming, watching her having to pick her way through multiple explanations, create long-winded detours just to attempt to confuse Sue into getting exasperated enough to drop the subject altogether. But that’s at the very end, when it turns out that she was going to all this trouble to make sure Sue wasn’t going to find out she’d gotten her that one Hawaiian shirt Sue had off-handedly admired once, aeons ago. Or that she’s been holed up in their room all day because she’s been setting up lights in honor of it being exactly six months since they first hugged. Which is why she is more resigned that surprised when Lavinia sits down in front of her, leans in, and asks her what she’s doing for Emily’s birthday next week.
Sue sneaks a look at Emily who is currently chatting with an old lady who usually comes in on the weekends. Her girlfriend happens to be one of those baristas who is beloved by the elderly, God only knows why. All the older ladies will hang back at the counter and tell her all about their grandkids’ schools and ballet recitals. In return, Emily will rant to them about college and apparently, Sue as well, which was something she discovered one day when she walked in and two old ladies gave her teasing yet approving smiles from their table.
(And then took her aside to whisper — Showing a little skin wouldn’t do any harm and would keep your girl on her toes — which near about killed her)
The entire situation is hilarious. Also the most adorable thing she has ever seen.
“Why haven’t you guys discussed your birthdays yet?”
“It’s just never,” Sue muses, “come up, I guess.”
Austin rollerblades past, swivels to a stop and bends so he’s approximately level with their faces. “Are we talking about,” he says, lowering his voice to a comical whisper, “Emily’s birthday?”
Lavinia pulls him down, so he’s sitting on the spare chair. “And Sue’s, apparently. Did you know her birthday falls, like, nine days after Emily’s?”
Austin stares at her, wide-eyed. “That means it’s on the.... 19th?
Sue nods.
“The 19th of December? After Emily’s birthday, on the 10th of December?”
“Y....es?”
He swipes at his phone, taps a couple of buttons, and then looks up with a smug smile. “I knew I remembered something. Look.”
Lavinia has to angle her whole body to see, but it registers for both of them at the same time. A certain poet and her muse, who also apparently shared the same birthday as her and Emily.
“Huh,” Lavinia says. “Maybe there is something to Emily’s theory after all.”
“You mean Emily’s theory that we’re the reincarnations of those two?” she asks, hearing her own voice get progressively more hysterical by the word. She clears her throat, takes a deep breath, adds it to the list of rapidly growing coincidences in her head that she’s never going to give a closer look to, because that would be crazy.
“Really the only part of this I’m genuinely shocked by,” Lavinia says after a long pause, in which Sue is struggling to reason with the logical part of her brain, “is that Austin remembers Emily Dickinson’s birthday.”
Austin smiles proudly, and the thought is so funny that it drives potential insanity out of her mind eventually.
*****
“Why didn’t you tell me your birthday’s tomorrow?”
Emily startles from where she’s staring out the window of the car, and Sue has about a moment to regret blurting it out before they’re looking at each other. She’d spent the entire week setting up the entire thing for Emily and now it probably won’t even be a surprise, but she’s insanely curious. No better time for it, either way. She’d planned everything perfectly, from picking up Emily at the café in the classy car she’d borrowed from Austin, to making sure it wasn’t too late after dinner. And yet, here they were, surrounded by cars and honking people because traffic was a fickle bitch.
“Is that why we’re taking this trip?” she asks, wide-eyed.
Sue extends a hand towards her, ruffles up her hair, feeling fond. Trust her idiot girlfriend to not have figured it out yet. She moves her hand to Emily’s cheek, and feels Emily cover it with her own. Feels a soft kiss pressed against her palm.
“What did you think it was, dumdum?”
“Well, it is the three month anniversary of—” Sue’s alarm is probably showing on her face, so she backtracks quickly. “Kidding. Kidding. There’s nothing tomorrow.”
Sue pinches at her cheek. “Except your birthday. Speaking of which—”
“Eh,” Emily shakes her head, shuffles around on her seat awkwardly, “it’s.... uh, complicated.”
“Is the complication that you happen to share a birthday with a poet from long ago?” she’s only half-joking.
Emily laughs at that. “Caught on, did you? Did you also check—”
“E-yup.”
“That your birthday is also—”
“E-yup,” she says. Then turns to look at Emily. “Wait. How do you know when my birthday is?”
Emily opens her mouth, but before she can say anything Sue hurriedly cuts in. “And you’re not allowed to say you have your ways.”
Years ago, when Sue was fourteen, one day her dad and her mom came home with the same vegetable. Same quantity. It was beans, and she could vividly remember all three of them staring down in mock dismay at the two separate huge bundles of beans that now took up most of the space on the table. Then they started comparing prices. Turns out her mother’s bundle had cost a couple cents lesser than her father’s. But it’s not the same , her mother had insisted, holding up both the bundles. See, yours weighs more. I think the grocer I bought it from took some off .
To this day, she defines love as the way her mother’s hand fell over his, combined with the way her dad looked at her next — like a child who had just been told that the blanket fort he’d spent hours constructing, wasn’t going to be torn down. Like someone had just handed a piece of the world to him, and told him to make of it whatever he wanted.
Sue recognizes it in the way Emily looks at her. Like she’s saying — Of course. Of course, you know me well enough to guess the next stupid thing that comes out of her mouth.
(She’s not very good at love, but she hopes Emily can read the answer in her eyes just the same)
“Birthdays are complicated,” Emily says, slowly. “I’ve had some very good ones and then some very bad ones.” First girlfriend who she asked out on her 20th birthday, and second girlfriend who she broke up with a week before her 23rd; Sue fills in the blanks as she talks. “So I guess I try not to tell people so I myself don’t expect anything out of it. Neutral birthdays are better than euphoric ones or sad ones, because at least they don’t haunt me forever.”
“Baby,” she says, and then trails off. Sometimes she likes calling Emily endearments, or just say her name out loud, randomly, even if there’s no statement attached to it. The sentiment’s always the same, however. I’m glad you exist. I’m glad you found me. I like your name. I love you.
(Emily’s fallen asleep by the time she’s driven to the top of the grassy knoll, by the time the clock hits midnight. Sue lets her sleep through it. There will be time to sit on top of the blanket and watch a sleepy Emily blow out the candles on a tiny cake that looks like a typewriter, to stare at the stars all night long while they listen to soft, slow songs on a pair of shared earphones. For now, Sue watches Emily sleep, head tilted against the glass and decides to hold off on telling her she loves her until the day after her birthday. It’s a perfectly neutral birthday. No use in spoiling it.)
(Emily says it back though, in case anyone was wondering)
*****
Sometimes, when Sue sees Emily cooking for her, she loses her breath.
(And sometimes, it’s not even due to the smoke from a burned dish)
But there’s something peaceful about watching Emily cook, especially if she hasn’t yet cottoned onto the fact that Sue’s watching her. She’s one of those annoying people who always has their headphones on, so most of her cooking in the kitchen involves perfectly timing the beats with the swipes of her spatula. Sometimes she spins around in the middle of a pancake flip to see if she can catch it in midair. Juvenile shenanigans aside, what really gets Sue, even after almost a year of having watched Emily dance around in the kitchen is the care with which she handles food that they will eat. It’s so different to the kind of food she cooks when she’s just cooking for herself. Sue’s seen her slap on two days expired cheese on top of a tortilla and call it lunch. And yet.
And yet. Sue will have the best of things. Lasagna that’s still steaming. A sandwich filled with the most delicious ingredients. Waffles topped with cream that Emily will get up early in the morning to get for her. Food enhanced with care, made better with love.
Why don’t you make those nice things for yourself, she’s asked on multiple occasions, to which Emily’s always shrugged. It’s just me. I can have almost anything.
(Emily deserves the best. Sue will make sure she has it)
There are flowers on the table, an assortment of daffodils and lilies arranged on a vase. Right in between two shiny plates laid out with napkins folded carefully beside them. Sue slides into one of the chairs quietly, rests her elbows on the table and waits for Emily to finally turn around.
There is a panicked scream when she does. Sue doesn’t want to be that girlfriend, but this is definitely going on the list of stories she’ll tell their future kids when they’ve grown.
(Another day she would worry about how the term — Their kids — moves around in her chest comfortably like a sip of hot cocoa. Today, exactly one year to the day Emily told her she liked her, she shrugs it off)
“You weren’t supposed to wake up for another half an hour at least.”
Sue hums. “You did tire me out last night, that is true.”
“Sue!” Emily says, scandalized, face rapidly turning red. “I — that’s highly — okay wait, first things first....”
She walks over to the table, and bends to kiss Sue.
“Happy anniversary.”
Sue closes her eyes, kisses both her cheeks in response. “Happy anniversary, my love.”
Emily grins back, then stands again. “Either way,” she says, as she ladles soup onto a bowl, and gathers multiple plates on a tray to subsequently bring to the table, “brunch! Courtesy of your beautiful girlfriend who finally managed to figure out how to make the perfect chicken pot pie without burning down the house, or worse, giving you salmonella.”
Sue inspects what lies in front of her. “Babe, this looks amazing.”
Emily looks proud, as she sits on the other chair. “And that’s not all, okay? This is just the start. Today evening I have gotten us both tickets to—”
“Move in with me.”
When Emily blinks, Sue startles. The words that had just come out of her mouth definitely weren’t well-thought-out, but now she was thinking about it and it seemed like all she ever wanted in life. To go to sleep with Emily, and wake her up in time for her morning classes, to be able to see her all the time, and not have to watch her go.
“That wasn’t my gift, by the way,” she adds, speaking fast, thinking of the limited-edition original copies of a book she’d driven five hours to the next town to get. “But it’s what I want. Us. Living together. I love you. We should.... uh, live together so — uh, okay Emily make me stop talking please.”
Emily shuts her up with a kiss. When they separate, she stays close to Sue, looking right into her eyes with that soft, soft expression.
“Are you sure?” she asks.
Sue takes in a deep breath. Nods. “Yeah.”
Emily considers that for a moment. Then says with a teasing smile — “I thought this violated your relationship rules.”
“What ae you—”
“No kissing before the second date. No celebrating six-month anniversaries because that’s for dummies. No moving in before at least two years of dating—”
“And if you remember correctly,” Sue cuts in, smoothly, “I kissed you two days before our first date. And serenaded you with a Taylor Swift song at the café on our six-month anniversary.”
“You did do that,” Emily says, quietly.
“And as long as we’re on the subject, I hate staying up past 11, or listening to sad girl music in the car, or watching that horrendous show about those two annoying men fake-dating,” Sue tells her, “but — it is my greatest honor that I get to do that for you. And with you. Emily, if you haven’t figured it out already, you’re kinda the exception to every single one of my rules.”
Sue reads Emily’s answer in the kiss she receives next.
*****
The middle, the middle, everything boils down to the middle. It’s what Sue sometimes hears Emily muttering to herself in the middle of the night when she has an assignment due the next day. Sue will blink, look over to the desk where Emily is planted with her nightlight on, hands in her hair. Sometimes Sue will keep blinking slowly, taking in the sight of Emily typing until she falls asleep. Sometimes Emily will notice that she’s up, walk over to the bed, and hum snippets of songs until she’s drifting off again.
And for all the beauty of the beginning, of first kisses and first dates and first times, there’s something to be said about the fifteenth time Emily plays her something on the ukulele, warning her beforehand that her voice might crack. Or the sixtieth burger she runs across the campus to hand over to Emily when she knows she’s got back-to-back classes scheduled. About the hundredth time she falls into bed, and scooches over, eyes closed, until Emily’s wriggling body is aligned against hers. There’s peace in knowing that a first time will inevitably lead to a second time, and then countless others.
(There’s peace in knowing the middle lasts the longest)
*****
She knows she’s in trouble. Has known she’s in trouble the minute she came out of the store and discovered that there was a pileup on the highway. And then when Lavinia called her panicking because their house-warming slash house party was getting out of control because of a lack of beer and a general overabundance of Austin. And then when her phone died in the middle of her conversation with Emily.
(So much trouble)
She’s exhausted by the time she makes it back to her apartment (their apartment , she corrects herself, smiling at the thought) and makes her way up the stairs, hearing the volume of the music increase with every step. Opens the door and is assailed with extremes — the tiny sparkling mirror ball someone’s managed to hook up to the ceiling, the dancing crowd in their living room, and a very loud and weirdly on-point Austin making guitar noises on the karaoke microphone.
“Lavinia!” Sue calls out in relief, when she catches sight of her. “Where’s Emily?”
Lavinia excuses herself from a group of frat boys hanging onto her every word and walks over. “Sue! Emily!”
“Yeah, I know! Tell me where she is!”
Sue points towards the ceiling, and in the same smooth motion, grabs the crate of beer from her hands.
Sue’s out of there before the first cry of “Beer” permeates the air. She climbs another two floors, and then the metallic ladder to find Emily sitting there, wrapped in her blanket, glaring up at her.
“You promised,” she says, flatly.
Sue drops onto her knees and takes Emily’s cold hands in hers. “I know.”
“No, you,” Emily repeats, then pauses, looking like she’s struggling, “you promised you were gonna be here, okay? I agreed to the housewarming thing only because you told me there wouldn’t be many people and you’d stay with me the whole time—”
“—baby....”
“No, don’t baby me. Let me finish.” Emily waits until Sue nods. “And then you went off to the store.”
“We ran out of beer,” Sue says, feeling sheepish.
“I know — I know that, okay?” Emily says. “I know there’s a reason, and probably a valid one but I’m mad, okay? You promised me something and then bailed. That’s not cool.”
Sue adjusts so she’s properly sitting down right in front of Emily. “I’m sorry,” she says, and means it. “It was inexcusable.”
Emily sighs, and seems to relax a little. “Okay. Thank you for saying that.”
Sue nods. “Some party, huh?” she says, after a while.
Emily smiles a little, then. “Did you see Austin? He was performing the High School Musical songs when I left.”
She laughs. “When I came in, I think he was doing the guitar riff to Bohemian Rhapsody.”
“Hey,” Emily says, after they’re done giggling at that. “I never asked. What took you so long? I thought you just went to get beer.”
“Uh,” Sue says, “I’d rather not tell you.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because I don’t wanna charm my way out of you being mad at me.”
“Oh,” Emily draws the sound out, teasingly. “It can’t possibly be that charming.”
If she wanted to play it this way, then okay.
“I stopped at an animal shelter on the way home. There’s a young cat there I thought we could adopt. Consider her a housewarming present.”
“Oh,” Emily says, then in an undertone. “Damn it.”
“Charmed?”
“Ugh, fuck, okay,” Emily admits, then pulls at their joined hands till Sue gets on top of her lap. “I hate you. I love you, but I hate you.”
Sue kisses her in return, settles in more comfortably.
“Tell me about her?” Emily asks, softly, in the quiet.
“Well, she chased the light reflected off my watch round and round so it’s safe to say she’s not the brightest.”
“I love her already,” Emily assures her.
*****
On her eve of her 25th birthday, Sue walks into her apartment and finds Emily, Lavinia and Austin panicking over how to fit the last half of her last name onto limited space on a handmade banner. She says hi to Juggers and Iguana, their two cats, then picks up their two-month-old puppy Rooney, all before one of the three already present humans in the room realizes she’s there.
“Sue, I’m so sorry,” Emily says, walking over to her and looking at her with a slightly desperate look in her eyes. “We tried baking cake, but it’s half burnt, but we can’t decide what to get and all we have are balloons but then Austin’s going crazy trying to keep Juggers from bursting them, because guess what? The cat is the devil—”
“—babe—”
“—no, I tried to make it a good birthday, I really did!”
She puts her hands on either side of Emily’s face, which forces her to quiet down. Then she looks over at the others.
“Have you guys been here the entire time I was taking classes?”
They nod.
She feels a little overwhelmed. “Guys, I — thank you so much,” she says, then takes stock of the situation. “Can you order pizza? We’ll ring in my birthday with pizza tonight.”
Lavinia side-hugs her on their way out to the couch, and then they’re alone in the kitchen. She kisses Emily on the forehead, then on both cheeks, trying to drive away the frown.
“What?”
“I just wanted you to have a good birthday,” Emily says, despondent.
“You’re here, aren’t you?” Sue says. “And so are our friends, who sat and worked this hard for hours trying to make me happy. And we’ll have pizza! We like pizza.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“No, you idiot” Sue explains, fondly. “I mean it. We’ll have burned cake, and we’ll fight over the pizza, and even if the animals are outnumbered, we’ll probably lose to them. And then we’ll probably watch a movie, and somehow all fall asleep on the carpet because Austin always claims the whole couch. Either way, it’ll be a good birthday, because I’m happy. And you know why I’m happy?”
Emily’s still pouting.
“Emily, why am I happy?”
“Because we’re together,” Emily completes, in a small voice, and then finally, finally smiles.
(It’s the messiest birthday Sue has ever had. Also the best)
*****
Here’s the thing about endings: everyone who writes stories knows they don’t really exist.
A famous author once said that they weren’t really the end of the story, just where you chose to stop it. Well, Sue agrees. Which is why this story in her head never ends. The imaginary typewriter in her head will keep typing long after, filling pages with anniversaries and birthdays and emergency dog adoptions. Maybe the next page talks about the day Sue breaks her arm, and Emily proposes to her with an onion ring she gets out of the hospital vending machine. Or the day Lavinia loses Rooney, walks around the entire block with Austin to find him and finally discovers he’s hanging out at the old café they used to work at.
So. Yes. This is where she decides to leave it. Finish it. There will be more stories to write later.
The end.
(Wink wink. Nudge nudge.)
#dickinson#emisue#fanfiction#emily dickinson#dickinson fanfiction#alright - so this is a modern emisue domestic fic about them being happy and in love or whatever bullshit people in love do#and technically it's a sequel to my first dickinson fic - although i don't thikn it's necessary to read that first to understand this#i've been working on this a while - so i hope you guys like it#also i made anohter playlist to vibe - think i'll put it in a reblog just in case anyone wants to check that out#and yeah#that's it i guess#happy reading!
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E1: The One Where It All Begins//F.W.
Series Summary: FRIENDS but with Harry Potter characters after Hogwarts graduation, trying to figure out their lives and relationships. Non Voldy AU. Begins around the end of FRIENDS season 4 with The Wedding (except this first one) and semi follows plots in season 5. Partially inspired by @lunalovecroft but follows different episodes and plots.
Pairing(s): Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader, Romione, Hinny, Georgelina
Warnings: Mentions of food/drink, suicide joke (very brief and light, nothing graphic), slight language, mentions of sex/strip clubs
Summary: It’s been 3 years since Y/N graduated from Hogwarts and moved into an apartment in Diagon Alley. Her life with her friends is simple and predictable, until a girl she hasn’t seen in years walks through the coffee shop door.
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: My first fic posted to tumblr! Probably going to be a 5-10 part series I haven’t decided yet
Based on FRIENDS S1 E1
------------------------------
“There’s nothing to tell! It’s just some guy I work with”
You waved your hands frantically at the people questioning you, trying not to spill your coffee on your new sweater and plaid skirt, apparently to no avail. You huffed as the latte sloshed over the edge and landed in a heap on your lap. The redhead sitting next to you, your roommate and closest friend Ginny, grabbed some napkins to help clean you up.
“C’mon,” spoke a voice, coming from the chair to the left to the couch upon which you were sitting. “You’re going out with a guy, there’s gotta be something wrong with him!”
“So does he have a hump, a hump and a hairpiece?” came another voice, this time from off to your right.
Rolling your eyes you replied to the almost identical voices coming from identical people. “Oh sod off you two, like you haven’t gone out with some whack jobs.”
Ginny laughed as her twin brothers, George and Fred respectively, mumbled and settled back in their seats. She helped clean up any coffee that spilled on the couch before realization dawned on her. “Wait, does he have a small penis?”
Three groans came out simultaneously from the group, ⅔ of which were from Ginny’s siblings.
“What? I just don’t want her to go through what I did with Dean, aww.” She looked off into the distance as if in a trance, remembering her time with the boy she dated back when you were all attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
“You know you have a boyfriend, right?” Ginny smiled sheepishly at the words coming from her boyfriend, the infamous Harry Potter, known also as the boy who lived. If it wasn't for his mom sacrificing herself for him, Voldemort wouldn’t have died for good that Halloween night. Imagine if he was somehow brought back, what a series that would be.
“Ok, everybody relax,” you said, returning the conversation to your dating life. “I have no idea how big or small his dick is, Ginny.” You scoffed and her brothers gagged at their sister’s discussion of her and her ex’s sex life. “Besides, this isn’t even a date. It’s just two people going out to dinner and not having sex.”
Harry, the quietest one of your group, spoke up. “Sounds like a date to me.” You threw your dirty napkins at him and he ducked the toss, hiding his chuckle behind his coffee cup.
Ginny got up to order a cappuccino, her usual at the Diagon Alley coffee shop. After the twins started their joke shop, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and the rest of you graduated, you and Ginny decided to get a place together down the street from the popular business. Being the same year as Harry and one of Ginny’s other brothers, Ron, you stayed in touch with the boys after graduation and they eventually found an apartment right across the hall from yours. With the 6 of you--Ginny, Ron, Harry, Fred, George, and yourself--living so close to each other, you began to spend all of your free time together, usually ending up lounging around the coffee shop until the owner kicked you all out.
“Do you guys want to hear about a dream I had last night?” It was Fred who had spoken, the slightly older and slightly more attractive twin, in your humble opinion.
“If it’s another sex dream about Snape, Freddie…” The group howled with laughter and you threw a hand to your mouth, silently cursing yourself for giving up the secret your friend had told you months ago.
“You arsehole!” he yelled, not actually meaning it. He buried his face in his hands, trying to cover the deep red spreading through his cheeks.
You tried to hold back your laughter but it bubbled out as you apologized. “I’m so sorry Freddie, it just came out! Kind of like in your dream when--”
“Y/N!” He jumped out of his chair and launched himself onto you, covering your mouth with his hand. You were bent over, holding your stomach with laughter. Ginny returned looking extremely confused.
“What’s so funny?” Fred gave you a look, telling you that you were dead meat if you mentioned this to his sister. You shrugged at him and nodded. You would just tell her once you two got home anyways.
“Your darling brother here was just about to tell us about a dream he had.”
Ginny groaned loudly, plopping down in her usual spot on the couch. “Is this like the one about Snape--”
“WHAT THE FUCK Y/N?”
Oh. Maybe you had already told Ginny. Whoops.
After a few more rounds of laughter and jesting at the oldest of the friend group, Fred finally told his dream, consisting of nudity, a wand for a penis, and a very interesting Howler from his mother.
You were all in hysterics, Harry wiping tears from his eyes and Ginny switching spots with you to throw her legs over her boyfriend's lap. It was at that moment that the final member of your 6 person friend group, Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor’s King, moped into the café.
He trudged over to the couch and chairs that your group had practically claimed as your own. “Hi.”
“Wow,” said Ginny, “my brother says hi I wanna kill myself!” Harry slapped Ginny playfully on the shoulder as she moved and nuzzled into his chest.
You stood up to meet your oldest friend. During Hogwarts you and Ron were inseparable. You did everything together, usually along with Harry and another girl, who you hadn’t spoken to in years. You laid a hand on the sulking man’s shoulder. “You ok sweetie?” you asked.
Ron huffed and sat down on the couch. “I just feel like someone reached down my throat, grabbed my small intestine, pulled it out of my mouth and tied it around my neck.”
“Cookie?” The younger twin spoke up, trying to defuse the tension but only making it worse.
You sighed and realized you would have to explain the situation, even though almost everyone there was his family and should have known what was going on already.
“Padma moved away today.” Your words were met with a chorus of ‘ohs’ from the group. George leaned over to pat his brother’s shoulder and Fred stood up to buy him a coffee.
“I’ll be fine, alright really everybody,” Ron said. “I hope she’ll be very happy.”
“No you don’t,” said Harry.
“No I don’t, to hell with her she left me!”
Ginny almost let out a chuckle but figured right now was not the best time to tease her hurting brother. Unfortunately, her other siblings didn’t have the same idea.
Fred returned with the coffee and he and George spoke at the same time. “And you never knew she was a lesbian?”
Ron facepalmed and groaned into his hand. He was growing increasingly tired of you all making fun of him for his relationship with Padma. After their date to the Yule Ball they dated on and off for the rest of their time at Hogwarts. They stayed together after graduation, going out consistently for the last 3 years. Ron was even considering a proposal soon, but that was when Padma came out to the world and let Ron know she was moving to the country with her old “roommate.” Needless to say he didn’t take it well and your friend group never let him hear the end of it.
The youngest Weasley brother kicked George’s shin as he continued to laugh. “No, ok? Why does everyone keep fixating on that? She didn’t know, how should I know?
“Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian.”
You all turned to the end of the couch, where two voices spoke in unison. However, these weren’t the constantly in sync voices of the twins. Harry and Ginny had both spoken those words out loud and were now staring incredulously at each other.
“Harry--”
“Ginny--”
“Well mates, it looks like you two have got some things to work out, and I would appreciate it if that didn’t happen in front of your family.” Fred winked at the couple before turning back to Ron. “Alright Ron, look. You’re feeling a lot of pain right now.”
“You’re angry,” interrupted George.
“You’re hurting.”
The twins leaned in toward their little brother. “Can I tell you what the answer is?” George asked.
Ron nodded reluctantly and the twins sat back and nearly screamed their solution. “Strip joint!”
“You two are disgusting” you said, suddenly losing your appetite.
Fred wiggled his eyebrows at you. “You’re just saying that because you don’t get anything out of it! How about afterwards we go back to your place and I put on a little show for you?”
At that comment everyone took turns slapping Fred upside the head, you going back for seconds.
Ron was still sulking, not having even touched his coffee.
“C’mon, ickle Ronniekins!” George began. “You’re single, have some hormones!”
You met Ginny’s eyes and shared a similar annoyed look. It was difficult only having one other girl in a friend group of 4 boys. Sometimes you wished you had someone else to help balance the group out.
“See George I don’t want to be single, ok? I just, I just wanted to propose to her! To be married!”
The ringing of the bell above the coffee shop door grabbed your attention, and you almost spilled your coffee again. Walking into the building, wearing a full wedding dress, makeup and hair done and all, was your old friend. The one you hadn’t seen since you graduated 3 years ago. The one you hadn’t heard more than a peep from in forever.
“Hermione?”
Fred looked between his youngest brother and the mystery bride, complete confusion on his face. “And I just want a million galleons!” He stuck his hand out as if expecting the coins to fall from the sky. You pushed past him and made your way to your old friend.
The brunette turned at the sound of your voice and her face lit up. “Oh Godric, Y/N hi! I was just at your apartment and you weren’t there and then this guy with a big hammer, who probably should have a background check done on him I’ll write to your landlord about that, but he said that you might be here and you are, you are!”
You grabbed the hysterical girl and walked her over to your group. Hermione Granger, the girl who was usually so logical and under control, was going absolutely crazy.
“Ok umm,” you started. “Hermione, this is the gang. You remember everyone right? I mean there’s Harry and Ginny, she and I share an apartment right next door. Then Fred and George, we’ve been spending a lot of time together over the past few years. Oh, and obviously Ron, he’s sulking in the corner.”
Ron shot daggers at you as he stood up to give Hermione a hug, which ended up a disaster of a mess as he dropped a jelly donut on her white dress. The boy sat down as Hermione said hi to everyone, greeting Harry and Ginny with massive hugs.
“I didn’t know you hung out with the twins, I thought they always saw us as their little brother’s annoying friends. I guess I’ve missed a lot, huh?”
“Yeah, why do we hang out with them George?”
“Because it’s either that or have mum at our throats for not spending time with our siblings.”
“Ah, that’s right.”
Hermione scooted in between Ron and Ginny, sighing and staring at the coffee table in front of her, oblivious to the 6 pairs of eyes boring into the crazy woman before you. Having no spots left to sit you walked toward Fred who gestured to his lap with a sly look. You rolled your eyes at the boy and muttered a “you wish Weasley” before sitting on the arm of the chair, letting your ginger friend grab your hand and fidget with the rings on your fingers.
“So you wanna tell us now, or are we waiting for 4 wet bridesmaids?” Hermione looked at you apologetically before she spoke.
“Oh Godric, well. It started about a half hour before the wedding. I was in Bulgaria with Viktor’s cousins, all wonderful ladies by the way, and I was looking at his staff, y’know the big one he carries around that makes him so attractive?”
You and Ginny nodded, along with Ron who seemed to be daydreaming about the Quidditch star.
“Well, I’m looking at this staff, this rough rugged staff, and I realized...I realized that this staff has more intellect and substance than Viktor! And then I got really freaked out, and then it hit me. How much Viktor looks like Mr. Potato Head.”
You and George made eye contact across the room trying to communicate with your eyes whether or not you should all bolt and leave the crazy girl behind.
But she continued. “I mean, I always knew he looked familiar but, anyway, I just had to get out of there and I started wondering, why am I doing this and who am I doing this for? I thought I loved Viktor, and moving to Bulgaria helped me with foreign ministry practices, but I just, I wasn’t thinking. Or maybe I was thinking too much? I don’t know.”
Ginny rubbed her friend’s back and Hermione leaned into the touch. “So anyway,” she said, looking at you, “I just didn’t know where to go and I know that you and I have kinda drifted apart since Hogwarts but you were the only friend I knew who was living in Diagon Alley--albeit I didn’t know you were living with Ginny but it’s a great surprise to see you.”
You took a second to process everything that was happening, not even realizing your other friend had begun to soothingly rub your back. “Your only friend in Diagon Alley, who you haven’t written to in years and who wasn’t invited to the wedding?”
Hermione rubbed her temples in desperation and you knew you could never actually be mad at the brightest witch of her age. “I was, I was really hoping that wouldn’t come up. I’m so sorry about that, Y/N, and Harry, and Ron, and even you Ginny.”
“Wow, alright then,” the twins spoke in unison again.
Hermione scowled at them, her already bad mood being worsened by their jokes. “In my defense you two never really liked me in the first place.”
Fred was about to say something but you shushed him, fearing that more likely that not it would be something offensive to the scared girl.
You stood from your uncomfortable seat and lifted your friend up by her hands. “I was just thinking about how great it would be to have another girl around. And Ginny and I do have an extra room that we were going to rent out, but seeing as an opportunity has presented itself…”
The young witch’s face beamed with happiness as she threw her arms around you. “Thank you Y/N, thank you so much! I’m still working for the Ministry so I can pay rent, and I’m sure there are things I can do to fix up the apartment, the building looked a little, umm, under the weather when I went to find you, and I can get closer with you and Ginny, and obviously catch up with you boys, and--”
Hermione continued to ramble on, but you drowned her out as you felt a warm breath next to your ear. Fred had snuck up behind you and was bent over your shoulder, whispering softly.
“She’s going to be a real handful, isn’t she?”
You elbowed the boy and turned to look up at him, giving a knowing smile. “As if you aren’t. Besides, I have a feeling that having Hermione here is about to make our lives a lot more interesting.”
#fredweasey#fred#fredweasleyimagine#fredweasleyseries#fredweaseyfluff#hermionegranger#ronweasley#georgeweasley#harrypotter#ginnyweasley#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley x reader#friends#fred x y/n#fred x reader#diagon alley#weasleys wizard wheezes#weasley
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Live for me (Spencer Reid x Reader) 💔
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: While working on a case, Spencer and y/n get kidnapped by the unsub. For everything to end: one has to die.
Warnings: ⚠️ THIS STORY DOES NOT HAVE A GOOD ENDING AT ALL, DON'T READ IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE THIS KIND OF TOPIC; DON'T FORGET TO GET SUPPORT AFTER READING ⚠️; death of major characters, loss of a person, grief, medication use, overdose, suicide, cursing, angst, depression, sad stuff……...
A/N: I cried as much as you are right now. I wrote a bit of it around 1am. Had to watch the unauthorized documentary of Matthew to cheer me up, and you should totally do it. Either that, or criminal minds bloopers, fun cm videos like "bau being kids", etc
Word count: 2.1k
"Hey. You're finally awake."
As you woke up, you only felt cold. You could tell by the ambiance that you weren't inside a room, but outside.
You could hear the faint sounds of cars, guessing that you could be at a high level.
"Come on, we have a game to start. You don't want to make us wait, do you?"
Us?
You looked around, realizing what he meant by 'us'.
It was him...and Spencer.
His eyes were wide open, locked in yours.
"Why are you doing that?"
"Because it's fun. Don't you like to have fun? Everyone does! That's why I gathered two lovebirds here. It'll double the fun! I'm smart, I know."
"You're nothing but an asshole. You're stupid as hell!" You yelled.
"No. I'm not."
"Your face tells me the fucking contrary!"
"Shut up. SHUT UP. YOU'RE MAKING ME WASTE TIME."
"I DON'T FUCKING CARE." You barely had time to place another word that he had punched you in the face, blood dripping out of your nose.
"Stop! Don't touch her!" Spencer yelled.
"She deserved it. She was being an annoying bitch. And I hate people like her."
"I...I'm not done." You muttered.
"Huh? What did you say?"
"I said I'm not done!"
"Done with what ? Me? Oh yeah, you're not. But soon, you'll be."
"Not until you're dead." You said.
"Unfortunately, I won't be the one who will die tonight. It'll be...one of you. One will live, one will die. Only one winner will come out of here alive, not two."
"We'll see that."
"No we won't. Not if you're dead."
"Dare touching her." Spencer said.
"Aw, your husband is so loyal. I'm gonna cry."
"You're gonna cry even more when you'll get to spend the rest of your life in prison; if someone doesn't kill you before."
"I am unstoppable honey. I'm as fast as the speed of the light. Here's the proof, I have been killing for ten years, no one found me. The only thing police had done was to send people that knew of the murders, had witnessed them, but didn't commit it. They all were sort of proud, not knowing that the real killer was still on the loose."
"The team will come. You're trapped. This is where everything ends for you."
"Nuh-uh. For you, not for me. I'm a free man, you're a soon to be dead girl, and you, a soon to be dead man."
"What a fool you're making out of yourself. You're a fucking coward, you're stupid as hell, worthless, you're so full of shit! Just shut the hell—" You spat out, as he raised his gun to your head.
"Now what, huh?"
"Now what? You want me to repeat myself?"
"Dare to do it."
"You're weak."
"Don't get me started."
"Just fucking surrender at this point, your pathetic life is ruined, you have nothing—" You couldn't even finish your sentence. You never got to.
He had shot you in front of the terrified eyes of Spencer.
You were now laying on the floor, a pool of blood growing bigger next to your head. A stray tear had fallen from your eye, the last tear you had shed.
Spencer's screams echoed, as a loud sound came from the door that had soon been opened.
The whole team was shocked at the sight of the scene. You, on the floor, possibly dead, and Spencer's eyes on you.
The guy had attempted to point his gun at Spencer to kill him as well, but then three shots were heard. Next thing everyone saw, he fell on the floor.
The last memories were a blur. Spencer only remembered the sobs of the team, arms wrapping around him, nothingness, he suddenly felt empty.
You were gone.
No.
That wasn't real.
It couldn't.
You couldn't be dead.
It wasn't possible.
It…wasn't.
--------
A week has passed since your death. He had stayed in his apartment, wrapped in a blanket. Only breathing. He wasn't doing anything and hasn't been going out since your funeral.
Part of him didn't want to come. He didn't want that to happen. But at the same time, he would have regretted it forever if he hadn't come.
He had found himself in your room, at 7AM, looking at the stuff in the drawers, until a pack of envelopes caught his attention.
He took it in his hands, before a sob escaped his lips. He had immediately recognised your handwriting.
The first letter was addressed to him.
'Spence' was written on the back.
He opened it with shaky hands, reading the two first words.
Dear Spencer,
I know it's morbid to write this kind of letter, because I'm not dying soon, or dead; but, I wanted to write this for you and the other members, in case something happens to me.
I wouldn't want to leave everyone behind without them knowing how much I loved them, you would have the right to know.
The letter for the other members of the team are also in the drawer you found yours, so please don't forget to give the letter.
If you are reading this, something happened, it means that I'm not alive anymore.
This letter is for you, the love of my life, my best friend, my colleague, my husband, first of all, I love you, I always have, and will always love you.
I want to thank you for being part of my life.
You saved my life.
A week before I met you, I planned to commit suicide. I had no family, no friends, no one to count on anymore.
Everyone had left me behind.
I don't have an eidetic memory, so I don't remember the exact hour, only the day, but I'm sure you do remember.
It was on a Sunday, 14….or 15th of June. The day I met you, was the day I planned to die. I was at the coffee shop, probably drinking the last coffee of my life.
I wasn't dressed at all in a pretty way. I think I had a hoodie and old jeans. I had picked up my order and decided to sit at a table to try to enjoy the view as I wouldn't see it anymore.
I didn't put sugar at all in my coffee. I hated black coffee, but I didn't care anymore. Even if the coffee would spill on my clothes, I wouldn't care.
Nothing mattered anymore.
And, that's when you saved my life.
The fact that the sugar was still next to the cup, unopened, apparently caught your attention.
I wish I was dressed better. I looked pathetic and horrible.
But you only saw what I didn't see anymore in me. You thought I was pretty, amazing.
I don't know how and why, we began talking, which ended with me, writing my number on your arm before leaving the shop.
That's when I decided I didn't want to die anymore, I wanted to live for you. Only you.
I can't thank you enough. You saved me. I could have died that day, and we would have never met. I would have never dated you, married you, and lived happily with you.
You made all of this possible.
Spencer, don't change. Stay the person you are. Not only you are the sun of my life, but you're the sun of everyone in the team.
Thank you for being with me.
And please, if anything happens, if I'm gone; live for me.
I love you.
Your wife, y/n.
He couldn't see you anymore.
By the time Spencer had finished reading your letter, tears were falling down his cheeks; he still couldn't believe the fact that you were gone.
He couldn't kiss you anymore.
He couldn't touch you anymore.
What would he wake up to each day? Only to an empty bed.
The only memory of you he'll have will be the pictures and the smell on your clothes. But eventually, the smell would go away, and the pictures would only remain frozen memories forever.
He would have to live without you, breathe without you, only prepare one cup of coffee instead of two, cook for only one person, leave the house without having someone to say goodbye to, come back without having someone to say hello to; his entire life was ruined.
You were his entire life, the reason he was living, breathing.
And now that you weren't here anymore, what was he supposed to do?
His life was senseless, useless without you. He couldn't live, enjoy life, while you were six feet under ground,
Dead.
It wasn't fair.
None of it was fair.
He should have died that night.
It shouldn't have been you.
He collapsed into the bed, laying down on your pillow. It still smelled like you, he had desperately tried to pretend like you were still here, but you weren't, he couldn't hear your soft breathing, feel the air on his skin, your skin in contact with his, you weren't here, you wouldn't come back.
He had wished for it to be a bad dream, he had wished for it to only be a dream, and that you would be by his side again.
But it never happened.
He had to face the reality.
You were gone forever.
He had cried himself to sleep, holding your letter and one of your coats in his hands.
Tomorrow, he'd wake up to an empty bed.
Alone.
You would not be in the bed.
He would only wake up to the sound of the stupid alarm, not your voice.
He wouldn't feel your hands on his face, in his hair, on his body.
*
He hadn't slept at all.
He couldn't.
You were the only solution for him to sleep. No matter what was on his mind, no matter how stressed he was, when he'd feel you by his side, he would immediately calm down.
But now, he had nothing.
The apartment was empty.
Calm.
Soundless.
Lifeless.
For him, it wasn't his home anymore, only walls and flooring.
He'd have to live there, every single item in the house reminding him of you. Every moment, every look, every breath, would remind him of you.
Everyone had tried to talk to him, and sat with him for hours. But he had only stared at the wall, with an empty look.
Technically, he was still alive, still breathing, but he was dead inside. No one recognized him anymore.
It had been a month since your death, it felt like five to him.
Every single second, minute, hour, day without you was unbearable.
If he had to live it was with you, and only you.
If you weren't there, he couldn't live.
He had no reason to.
The cold floor he was laying on had just reminded him that he was still alive.
He felt so tired.
He didn't have the strength anymore.
He didn't want to fight anymore.
Not in a world where you didn't exist.
Not without you by his side.
Life had no meaning anymore.
The colors had been drained from the world from the moment life had left your body.
He hadn't felt this kind of peace for months.
He closed his eyes, and a few minutes later,
He saw you.
You had a yellow dress on, his favorite. He called your name, and saw your beautiful eyes once again.
A sad smile was on your face, as he saw you walking towards him.
"Spencer, why are you doing here?"
"I'm sorry y/n. I'm so sorry. I tried. I couldn't live without you, it was impossible."
"Shh, shh...it's okay. You tried babe, you tried. Now you're here. That's all that matters."
"But y/n, I broke the promise. I couldn't live for you, I didn't do it."
"Spencer, it's okay. Everything will go away, everything; because I'm here now, we're together. We're not away from each other anymore. I promise everything is going to be okay."
"...promise?"
"Promise." You took his hand, smiling at him.
You turned out to be right, everything went away.
He could finally allow himself to be relieved.
Now, he could be by your side forever.
--
Dear y/n,
So sorry.
I wrote this letter after you died. I had to tell you everything.
I'm sorry.
I can't do it anymore, I love you too much to the point I can't live without you anymore.
I want you to know that I'm grateful for all of the moments we've spent together.
Thank you for being my girlfriend.
Thank you for marrying me.
I'm sorry we didn't live long enough to have children. I wish we could have.
I know we would have named them after the team. Garcia would have been their godmother.
You wanted to have two, I wanted three, or five, like Matt.
I wanted to have mini versions of us running in the house. But it never happened, I'm sorry.
Thank you for all of these years you've spent with me.
I have never hated to be with you one single day. I always appreciated every day by your side.
You are so beautiful, don't forget that.
I could never thank you enough.
Spence.
I love you y/n.
--------
Left letters;
To the BAU, my family;
When I wrote this, I was still alive; but if you're reading it now, I'm not alive anymore. Something might have happened.
I want everyone to know what was on my mind.
Thank you for being an amazing team.
Derek, you were the brother I never had. You always stood by my side, and you can't imagine how grateful I am. I wish you the best, Savannah and Hank are lucky to have you by their side.
Hotch, you were like 'a step father', you protected me, listened to me, I could talk freely with you. Jack is an awesome little guy, I liked babysitting him.
Rossi, you also were like a father to me. You taught me how to cook, how to be better person, I owe you everything. I also want to thank you for marrying us at our wedding.
Emily, you are everything; a mother, sister, friend, I still remember all of the nights we've spent at the bar, on the couch eating ice cream, exchanging secrets, like little girls. I always had admired you.
Matthew, Luke, you guys have also the same role to me, you were the brothers I wished for, teasing me, pulling pranks on me, cheering me up, taking care of me, worrying just when I fell off my chair or when I had a paper cut.
JJ, you are amazing. You have made two wonderful children I loved to be around, they look exactly like you (No offense Will). You also were like Emily, my whole family.
It's the same for Tara, you had always listened to me. You are a strong and amazing woman.
I'm sorry if I repeated myself, but that is mostly because you guys are all my family, I feel the exact same way about everyone.
I am sorry for everything.
Garcia;
I'm sorry I couldn't live long enough to have children. You would have been their godmother, all of them.
You would have babysat them, even when I would have been free, you would have loved them so much.
You truly are the sun.
Thank you, everyone, for being yourself. You have brought me so much joy.
Whatever happens, don't change guys. Keep enlightening other people's lives like you always did.
I love you guys.
To the team;
y/n.
--
I'm sorry. Every time you guys were there, you had tried your best to cheer me up; and you did, but the pain had covered everything. The pain was stronger.
The pain won over everything.
I fought.
I tried.
But y/n was my whole life, and without her, I was nothing.
I missed her, so much. So much.
I'm so sorry.
Thank you for being a wonderful team.
Spencer.
#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#cm#criminal minds fic#derek morgan#spencer reid#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#matthew gray gubler fic#matthew gray gubler
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